PR Stands for Public Romance
by StumblingAlong
Summary: OQ AU: Regina Mills, better known by her reputation as the "Evil Queen", is an actress with a declining career. That is until she meets the one way she may be able to save it: Robin Locksley, her new costar - and new (fake!) boyfriend. But will their performances be so great that they fool even themselves? OutlawQueen.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Hello. *hangs head* Yup. Another multichapter. LOL. This was _supposed_ to be a one-shot for the wonderful OQ Week happening right now. Then I realized how much I wanted/want to do with this story and it was either going to be a 50,000 word OS or I would finally relent and make it a MC. And my devilish friends on Twitter, Zoe, Gabi, Marion kept encouraging me. So if this sucks and no one wants the following chapters, they are to blame. :P**

 **The original idea behind this story was loosely inspired by the most INCREDIBLE CaptainSwan fanfic called "The Trouble With Faking It" by nowforruin. I BEG of y'all to go read it! I like CS, but I'm not a HUGE fan and yet I am OBSESSED with that fic.**

 **So, yup. Another in progress fic, if y'all think I should continue, that is. Just means my lazy ass needs to get better about updating, I suppose. LOL.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own 'Once Upon A Time', nor it's characters. I write this purely for fun.)**

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"Ms. Mills, you can't just go in there!"

Regina barely hears the reprimand, spoken in the secretary's thick Austrailian accent, as she breezes by the the front desk of the offices of Golden Spun Entertainment. Her Manolo Blahnik heels slap against the white marble floors as she expertly navigates the narrow hallway, several doors adorning both sides, but her focus is on the set of double doors at the end of the corridor.

 **Robert Gold**

 **President & CEO, Golden Spun Entertainment, inc.**

She opens both doors (she loves nothing more than a dramatic entrance. Well, maybe, with an exception to the gorgoeus Chanel handbag hanging from the crook of her elbow), bursting into the office. She holds her iPhone in her palm and immediately holds the screen out in front of her, her voice rising in volume, and anger, with every syllable as she demands, "What. The. Hell. Is. This?!"

"Regina," Gold, a man in his early 50's, who dresses in impeccably designed, tailored suits, yet, contrastingly, allows his shoulder-length hair to hang freely, framing his thin, tan-skinned face, is sitting behind his large, gold-trimmed, marble top desk. The Los Angeles sun is streaming in through the windows that completely make up the wall that sits behind Gold and it stings Regina's eyes as she continues to glare at him. "How lovely of you to join us."

"Cut the bullshit, Gold," She snarls as she continues to thrust her phone in his direction, "What the hell is this?"

"Ah, I do believe they call that electronic mail, e-mail for short, dearie," He responds, folding his hands in front of him, leaning back in his white, leather office chair.

Regina feels her blood boil beneath her skin, detects a dull thumping at the base of her skull, wants nothing more than to forget this entire stressful nightmare, go home and soak in a bath while reading through new scripts.

But that is the reason why she has to stay.

Suddenly a new voice emerges, the petite brunette from the front desk rushing in, breathless, exclaiming, "Mr. Gold, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop her. I called secruity-"

"That's quite alright, Belle," Gold dismisses, his tone relaxed, his eyes flitting from Regina, to the secretary, back to Regina as he says, "Ms. Mills always has a free standing invitation here."

Belle nods, shyly, muttering a "Yes, sir", and backing out of the room, closing the doors as she leaves.

When she's gone, Regina whirls back around to Gold and stalks forward until she is directly in front of his desk, slamming her phone down in front of him as her hands find purchase on top of the marble. "Damn straight I always have an invitation here. I made this company, which makes me ask you, one more time: What is the meaning of this?"

Her voice is low, a mere growl from the base of her throat contorted into words, and her jaw starts to become sore from being clenched in anger.

Gold smirks, leaning forward towards her, "That, my dear, was your wake up call."

"Enough with the riddles, you twisted imp," Regina hisses, curls her hands into fists on the desk, her fingernails biting into the skin of her palms, "I get an e-mail from you saying that I'm fired from _Heroes & Villains_, are you insane? Do you have any idea what I have done for this company, I-"

" _You_ ," He interrupts her, his word sharp, slicing through Regina's, rendering her silent as he stands to his feet, "have done nothing these past few years except bring this studio negative press."

"There would be no studio if I-"

"Ah, ah," Gold, again, cuts off her words, lifting his index finger in the air, "That is a mutual pathway, is it not? You were one late rent payment away from doing porn before I cast you in _The Dark Curse,_ so don't threaten me with your misplaced sense of entitlement, dear."

Regina flushes, can sense the heat that involuntarily rushes to her cheeks. It's not so much the words he spat at her, not the mention of her less than glamorous past of when she was just a fledging actress, it's the fact that he's right that vexes her. She hates when this smug bastard is right.

She wets her lips, finds her mouth to be parched, her throat dry, her stomach still as knotted as it was when she had originally opened that message not a half hour ago. She wants to say something, wants to scream and yell and, just maybe, push Gold through those floor-to-ceiling windows and down the 23 stories that his office sits upon. But as she opens her mouth, no words materialize.

Gold grins, stepping out from behind his desk, walking towards her and she takes a step backward. He seems unfazed, simply stretches his hand out to the side, directing Regina's attention in that direction, "Perhaps it's time you introduced yourself to our guest."

For the first time, Regina notices a man sitting in one of the two white, leather lounge chairs that sit across the front of Gold's desk.

Hmm.

He's attractive, whoever he is- in a rugged sort of way. Not the type of man, the pretty boys with fake tans and their hair full of gel and sprays, that Regina is accustommed to being in the presence of. He looks to be just a few years older than she is, no older than his early 30's, but he has signs of age, a few wrinkles, a sun spot on the edge of his forehead, that most men would have Botoxed and lasered away by now. This man has scruffs of hair covering the lower portion of his face, not clean-shaven and well-moisturized; he's wearing a loose-fitted white button down shirt, with boot-cut khaki pants, as opposed to the tailored polo shirts and skinny jeans she usually sees in men these days; his eyes are big and bright and so blue that she thinks she may just fall in them and drown in the oceanic pools- _and_ not a single trace of eyeliner to be spotted around them.

"Oh, no introductions necessary," His accented voice replies (British, Regina notes with appreciation) and he waves off Gold as he stands to his feet, reaching his hand towards her, "I'm well-aquainted with your work, Your Majesty."

And just like that, any moderate interest Regina had in this man is extinguished.

"Your reputation proceeds you," He follows up with, his hand still outstretched out to her. She glances down at it with disdain, then back up to his face, a smile resting on his face.

"I'm well aware of my reputation," She sneers, folding her arms across her chest, the man finally taking the hint and dropping his hand, "Perhaps you shouldn't believe everything you hear."

It didn't always used to be this way, Regina thinks, bitterly. Ten years ago, when she met Gold, a former talent agent who had taken to starting his own production studio, looking for an unknown actress that he could mend and mold, help skyrocket to success to further launch his own, she had the world at her feet. After their first collaboration, _The Dark Curse_ , a suspenseful, epic drama in which she portrayed a powerful sorceress who had to sacrifice the ones she loved in order to fulfill a magical prophecy, became a surprise box office success, Regina Mills became a household name. She covered magazines, went on talk shows, won three Golden Globes and was nominated for one Academy Award, in addition to turning out money-making hits for Golden Spun Entertainment. It had been all she had ever dreamed of and, frankly, more than she thought she would have accomplished when she had made the cross country move from her childhood home in upstate New York to Los Angeles to live out said dreams.

And then the dream became a nightmare.

It had begun three years ago. Regina was working on a movie called _Forbidden Fruit,_ where she fictionally was rivals with an up-and-coming young actress, Mary Margaret Blanchard. Where Regina was known for being more sultry and spiritous in her work, Mary Margaret's image was one of innocence and shyness. So shy, in fact, the damn girl could barely stutter out her lines properly and after weeks upon weeks of unusable takes and delayed start times, Regina had finally snapped at the flightly girl, telling her, in so many words, to get her act together. Mary Margaret had started to cry, had mumbled broken apologies, and that was that.

Except "that was that" no longer exists in this digital world.

Someone on the set had recorded Regina's outburst and it, of course, had been sold to every gossipy media outlet in the country. It was debated on _The View_ , it was reported in People magazine, and it was viewed more than 20 million times, within the first week, on YouTube. But because the public never receieves the full story, hadn't a clue about Mary Margaret's unprofessional behavior, she was the victim of an "envious, aging actress" who was "terrified" that her star power was "fading into the blackness of irrelevance with the likes of Nicole Kidman and Keanu Reeves."

The press apparently drew comparisons between Mary Margaret and, the fairy tale, Snow White (both painfully boring and sickeningly sweet, Regina could see) which, as the person who "verbally assaulted" the actress, Regina was dubbed "The Evil Queen" in every tabloid, on every blog, and joked about in the monologue of every late night talk show.

Film roles, since the "Evil Queen" moniker was given, have been scarce and the few she has retained, false reports are constantly made to the media to make Regina look worse and worse to audiences around the globe. If it weren't for her passion of acting, her love of her craft, she's sure she would have left the business by now. But here she stays, still facing ignorant individuals who know nothing about her or her past or her life, yet think they do because of rumors and headlines.

"Perhaps you're right," He concedes and Regina starts to soften towards this man, especially when his grin widens and the dimples that bookend his lips dig into his skin- until he tacks on, "Your Majesty."

Regina narrows her eyes and snaps, "I prefer Regina", then turns her focus to Gold and asks, "And who is he?"

"Meet your new costar in _Heroes & Villains_. Your love interest, actually," He answers, almost proudly, a little too content as far as Gold goes, it has Regina's intuitions standing alert, "Robin Locksley."

The name is familiar, Regina racks her brain, searching for recognition, which she finds, raises her eyebrows at the man, at Robin, " _A Thief_."

Robin sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, biting back a smile, "You've heard of me, I'm honored."

It was hard not to, honestly. _A Thief_ was the most popular film out of the U.K. last year, with Robin Locksley as the featured star, becoming a "one-to-watch" in the acting community, even in the states.

"'Heard of' being the operative words," Regina smirks, "Heist movies aren't exactly at the top of my Netflix que."

"No, I suppose you'd prefer something more _regal_ , wouldn't you?" He says with a sly grin of his own, "Though you may want to start getting down and dirty if we're to play outlaws together."

Regina doesn't volley back another set of words with the Thief (and swears she can see a shred of disappointment cross his features), instead turning towards Gold again, "So if this is my costar, I assume that means I'm not fired."

"You know what they say when you 'assume', dearie..."

"Gold," Regina hisses, trying to reign in the tone of her voice.

He simply smiles and gestures towards the seats in front of his desk, before going to resume his own seat. "Yes, Regina, you still have your job."

She barely resists releasing a sigh of relief. _Heroes & Villains_ is one of the best scripts she has read in a very long time. It is based off of popular sci-fi/fantasy novel by Isaac Heller, who had also penned the screenplay. She would be playing the character of Wilma, a simple peasant woman, living in a land controlled by a deranged, evil sorceress, who, with the help of, apparently, the character Robin would be playing, rises to greatness to defeat the villainess.

It is something new for Regina, to be portraying someone grittier, real. She would no longer be the witch or the villain, no, she would be the hero and, God knew, that her public persona could use that kind of fictional boost. It also gives her a chance to really use her body, since her character is a bandit, someone living in the forest, trying to survive. Regina has already begun physical training, as well as archery lessons for when her character was to hold a bow and arrow.

But then her heart sinks as Gold continues, "With one condition."

She snorts, shaking her head, in disappointment at herself for believing the first words that had come out of the studio head's mouth, "There's always a price with you. What is it this time?"

"He," Gold points to Robin, who is leisurely sitting back in his chair and who catches Regina's eye when her's dart towards him, something unreadable in his expression that keeps her stare locked in his as their boss continues, "will be your love interest in the film- and off-screen, as well."

"What?!" Regina barks, her head snapping back to Gold so fast she's shocked that she didn't break her neck with the movement.

"For the duration of filming and up through the nation-wide release, you two are to be in a relationship."

"You're out of your mind," Regina exclaims, nearly laughing at the absurdity that is leaving Gold's mouth. He wants, expects, her to date this man that she's known for mere minutes?

"Regina, you are at the precipice of being involuntarily retired at the age of 29, now is that something you want?"

"You know it's not," She whispers, darkly. This seems to amuse him, judging by the smirk that swipes over his lips.

"Robin has a pristine image in this industry. He's who every woman wants their own spouse to be, who every man _wants_ to be. If the world sees that he's willing to see through 'The Evil Queen', they will, too."

"You want me to surrender my life, my personal life, the one piece of me that I still manage to have after this shit, to be in a publicity relationship? To trick people? And for how long? It'd be at least a year! No way, no deal."

"Then no job."

Regina's jaw clenches, "You can't do that. That's illegal, I'll sue your ass-"

"And who will win that, dear? Not only in the law's courtroom, but in the court of public opinion? I see the headline now: 'Evil Queen Refuses to Work with British Heartthrob, Sues to Get Her Way.'"

"You son of a bitch," She fires back, her stomach doing somersaults as she is metaphorically backed into an impossible corner. Then a thought springs to mind and she vocalizes it instantly, "Did you talk to Cora about this?"

"Whose idea do you think it was?" Gold chuckles.

"Of course," Regina scoffs, "Why the hell would my mother want to think of my feelings ahead of my image?" Cora Mills, her mother and manager (after _The Dark Curse'_ s success and realizing her daughter was not the failure she had originally dismissed her as) wasn't just a shark when it came to contracts and media appearances, she had the ability to tear Regina's heart out at any moment.

She sobers, swallowing down the bile of disappointment that her mother's actions still managed to draw from her as she flings her arm towards the chair beside her, "And he knew?"

Gold nods, folding his hands in front of him on the desktop, "I told him shortly before you arrived."

"Did you blackmail him, too?"

Now it's his turn to snort in derision, "With what? Unlike you, he has nothing to use against him."

"Did you pay him off? An 'extra million in his contract to sleep with his costar' clause?"

"I am not some sort of pimp, Regina, which is what I would be if any monetary support was employed in this situation."

"Then why the hell would he agree to this?"

"'He' is right here, Your Majesty," Robin, silent until this moment, grumbles. Regina's head whirls back in his direction at his words.

"Fine. Why the hell would _you_ agree to this, Thief?"

Robin shrugs nonchalantly, "This is my first American film, anything to bring it more publicity, _good_ publicity, seems reasonable to me."

"Reasonable?!" She is near shrieking now, hands shaking in her lap, "You think us being in a relationship is- "

"It's just a farce, Regina," It's the first time he's used her name and Regina ignores the flutter it ignites in her chest, scoffing instead as he speaks, "It's a public romance, nothing more."

"You think you can still date around while is insanity is happening? Any girl will run to the tabloids so fast- "

"I've been single for nearly three years, Your Majesty, one more certainly will not be a strain to my self-control."

Regina opens her mouth, then closes it. Open, then close, open, then close. She doesn't know how to respond, what to do. Her eyes leave Robin's, focusing on the floor, on anything but what is happening.

Suddenly she feels something warm enclose over her hand and she looks down to see it be a hand, Robin's hand. He has leaned forward in his chair, his hand covering her own, which is still shaking in his grasp, and is smiling softly, supportively at her.

Support. Well, that's something she hasn't had in quite some time.

She sighs, allows her hand to remain in the hold of Robin's, her boyfriend's, she supposes, then looks up at Gold, "So what would we have to do?"

"So you agree?" Gold questions, eyebrows raised, yet the curl of his lips tells Regina he's pleased.

Regina narrows her eyes, about to bite at him when Robin does so, instead, "That's not what she said."

She glances at Robin beside her, unable to stop herself from being touched at the gesture (and, hell, anyone else who stands up to Robert Gold gets her respect), but she cannot be 'touched' by this man. This is, or will be, a fake relationship, a PR stunt, nothing more, and she needs to view this as a job, a performance, and if there's anything she's learned, it's to detach yourself from a role when you aren't on set.

So she rips her hand out of his own, out of his reach, as she snarls, "I can speak for myself, Thief."

His mouth hangs loose for a moment, obviously confused by her sudden seperation, but then his eyes darken and he holds his hands up, "I wouldn't dream of thinking you couldn't, Your Majesty."

The tense moment is broken by Gold clapping, regaining both Regina and Robin's attention, "Bravo. Acting like an old, married couple already. Marvelous. Though you'll have to be a bit more playful than that for your audience."

"What. Do. We. Have. To. Do." Regina repeats herself, emphasizing every word with the same acidity she feels pumping through her veins.

"It's quite simple, really. Shooting begins in one month. Until then, I want you two to go out, casually. To lunch, a walk, etc."

"Where cameras will be," Robin seems to finish, earning a snap of Gold's finger and a point towards him.

"Smart man, Locksley. Exactly. When you'll be asked about your... relationship, you'll be coy. Say you're getting to know each other for your roles."

Regina nods along, "And then?"

"Once filming begins, you'll be utilizing social media. Playful tweets towards one another, cryptic Instagram pictures, anything that will get people sharing and talking."

"What is an Instagram?" Robin asks and Regina guffaws, while Gold simply ignores the inquiry, continuing to prattle off instructions.

"On set, you will be spotted going in and leaving one another's trailers, you will be not-so-secretly attached at the hip."

"And our fellow actors?" Regina asks, crossing her arms once more, "You know the problem I've had in the past with people leaking out fake information."

"As far as anyone outside of this room knows, you are a couple. Your costars, your friends, everyone. If anyone dares say anything negative, Robin, you will be the 'knight in shining armor' and defend her, repel any rumors if they are to occur."

"I don't need a 'knight in shining armor'!" Regina argues, chewing the inside of her cheek.

"No, you need to look good in the press. Someone finally saying something nice about you will do that." Regina sighs and Gold finishes his set-up, "When it comes time for the press tour, you will do interviews together. Flirting, touching, the whole nine yards, and then right before the premiere, you will announce you're a couple."

"Move over Brad and Angelina," Regina mutters sarcastically, but Gold's eyes light up.

"Hopefully, dearie. That is, if you two can pull it off."

"And when does this charade end?" She wonders aloud, feels Robin's eyes land on her, so she turns to see him wielding a cheeky smile.

"Already that anxious to get rid of me, Your Majesty?"

She doesn't get the chance to reply, as Gold interjects in, "A month after the release, you'll make a statement, 'better as friends', blah blah blah, fans' hearts will be broken, but both your careers, and this studio, will profit. So, do we have a deal?"

"It's up to you," Robin murmurs, having swayed further towards her as he had earlier, but he doesn't touch her this time, but their eyes connect, "What do you want to do?"

She knows Gold's staring at them, waiting for her response as well, but in this one moment, for this one second, before this craziness truly begins, Regina permits herself to believe that she is normal, that the handsome (if not, albeit, maddening) man in front of her is normal, that this is normal, as say says to Robin,

"We better be going somewhere Italian for lunch."


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU. That is literally all I can manage to say at this point. Y'all have been SO incredibly nice, way more than my mediorce self deserves. LOL. I cannot believe the amazing response the first chapter of this fic received, it blew me away. And, because of it, I have so many ideas for this fic now, so it'll definitely be a big ol' multichapter and I hope y'all who have/are reading it and, for reasons seriously unbeknownst to me, manage to like it, I hope you continue to do so. It's actually a really fun universe to write so far. If you like this kind of AU, Hollywood universe for OQ, you should DEFINITELY check out a new fic by brookeAp3 called "Guard My Heart"- I am already obsessed!**

 **So thank you again to everyone who has taken the time to favorite, follow, review, and, especially, just read this fic, you honestly have no idea what it means to me.)**

She has a headache.

It's a dull thumping at the base of her skull, nothing too terribly painful, but it was enough for Regina to be agitated enough to pop two Excedrin tablets into her mouth, had swallowed them down with a bottle of Fiji water, before she left the house. Though, it seems to have only gotten worse, not better.

She wants to blame the sun. It's nearly 1 p.m., the sun is completely risen, not a cloud in sight today, and it seems to be assaulting her corneas even through the protection of her Chanel sunglasses - ones that she paid far too much for for them to utterly useless, Regina thinks, bitterly.

But she can't fault the hot ball of plasma for the steady pinch of pain in her head. No, she knows by the gnawing in her stomach, the tightened feeling in her throat, and the slight shake in her hands and legs, that this something else entirely. _Anxiety_.

Robin sits beside her in a black SUV, the make and model she can't be bothered with - it's not hers, it's a car service's, so why should she care? - as they near The Grove.

It's a mecca in Los Angeles. A social center with shops and restaurants and a large cinema, where Mario Lopez interviews celebrities on _Extra_ and tourists gawk at the affordable version of Sunset Boulevard.

And where Regina does _not_ want to be.

It's her and Robin's first outing, though. Act I, in theatre terminology.

It has to be public, but casual. Attention grabbing, but without "trying" to grab said attention. It has to look comfortable, but, really, the man sitting beside her is still a stranger.

Well, he hasn't been too bad, Regina can silently concede, because she'll never admit that to him. Robin _has_ been trying, despite her wishing he almost wouldn't. They had exchanged all crucial contact information, phone numbers, e-mail addresses, Twitter handles (Regina had followed him, and he her, when his casting announcement was made two days ago - the day after their meeting with Gold), and he'd texted her several times, as soon as today's arrangements had been sent to them, asking if there was anything he could do to aid them in this situation and, always, asked if she was still okay with the ruse.

She wasn't, isn't, actually. But what other choice is there? Gold said so himself, 'The Evil Queen' is not hirable, Hell, she had to fight tooth and nail to even get _Heroes & Villains,_ which means Regina Mills will be a figment of Hollywood's memory in a year tops if her image isn't salvaged.

Not that she cares about her "image" or Hollywood or fame, in general. That's never been what's driven her. Sure, she won't be one of those celebrities who deny the perks of being a "movie star", won't say she'd trade in her closet filled by designer clothes or regret the gorgeous vacations to Paris or Ibiza that she's been fortunate enough to take, but the only thing she truly cares about is acting.

And to continue acting, she has to "date" the man sitting beside her. The man who is now reaching across the small space between them in the seat of the SUV, the knuckles on his hand gently skimming her bare knee (she'd chosen a simple, patterned black and white DVF wrap dress and black Jimmy Choo booties for their outing today), sending a shiver up her leg and gaining her attention away from the window she had been staring through.

"We're here. Are you ready?" Robin asks, a veiled concern etched in his voice. Regina nods, wordlessly. She watches him open his side's door and get out and she can only imagine that he's coming around to open hers.

Well, that just won't do.

She is certainly capable of performing this act, of putting on a live show, just as she had done in those community theater productions of _Fiddler On The Roof_ and _My Fair Lady_ , and she is more than capable of opening her own damn door.

Regina swings the SUV's passenger door open - nearly whacking Robin in the face in the process. She can already see the flashes of paparazzi cameras in the corner of her eye and a moment of panic suddenly seizes her. So much for capable, she internally scolds herself.

Luckily, Robin laughs, loud and booming, and she's not sure if it's his real laugh or part of the show, but either way, it swims pleasantly into her ears, making her feel lighter, more relaxed than she has been all day so far.

"How am I supposed to trust you with a bow and arrow if you nearly take me out with a car door, Mills?" He jokes, his voice elevated and this, Regina knows, is "Boyfriend Robin", so she follows the lead.

She guffaws, the heel of her booties finally hitting the concrete of the sidewalk as she takes Robin's outstretched hand, "I'll just have to be extra careful; I wouldn't want to hurt such a precious asset now would I?" She reaches up, with her free hand, brushing a "misplaced" lock of his dirty blonde hair back and then allowing her hand to momentarily touch his cheek before they both share a laugh.

They turn, ready to face the small group of cameramen that have gathered at the entrance of Tony's, a small Italian dining establishment. Robin keeps hold of the hand she had slipped into his own, giving it a reassuring squeeze as he goes to pass her, whispering in her ear, "I believe you're the one with the assests, Your Majesty."

Ah, _there_ is the real Robin.

Regina resists releasing a huff of irritation, instead, smiling wider, as if he had said murmured something amusing, flirty, perhaps (though, could his actual comment be considered flirtatious? Regina pushes the thought from her mind instantly), but her sunglasses finally find a purpose, concealing the eyeroll she allows herself as she walks in step with Robin towards Tony's front door.

Their names are being spoken from several different sources, each pap vying for Robin or Regina's attention, something, other than a candid photo, to post on their website or sell to a magazine.

One of them manages to shout louder than the others, hollering out, "Is this a date?!"

Robin swivels his head around, flashing that toothy, dimply grin of his, answering with a chuckle, "Just two coworkers getting to know one another, mate."

Not a denial, but not a confirmation, either. He's good, Regina will give him that.

He opens the door, bowing his head to the side, adding an "After you, milady", and she enters, pulling on his hand behind her.

They're sitting immediately, at a secluded table, against a wall, but still in eye shot of Tony's front windows. Regina isn't surprised at the optimal seating, Gold's office had made this reservation, after all.

They place their orders with the waitress, a young blonde with a name tag displaying "Ashley" and who is far more starstruck by Robin than someone who works in a prominent Hollywood centre, in Regina's opinions, should be, but she takes their order, a chicken parmesean sandwich with a side of garlic herb fries for Robin and an apple gongonzolla salad for Regina, without asking for a "selfie", so at least there's that.

"You don't have to do that, you know," Robin suddenly says, once again tearing Regina from her thoughts.

"Do what?" She questions, careful not to allow her expression to show anything amiss as she reaches for her glass of iced tea - unsweetened, of course. Cora would pitch a fit if she knew Regina had been consuming unecessary sugar - the italian vinaigrette she ordered on the side of her salad has her feeling guilty enough.

"This," Robin answers, his smile widening dramatically, then fading to normal again, "The exaggerated smile."

"They can see from the window- " Regina reminds, but he interrupts her, scooting closer towards her in their circular booth.

"What I mean is," He pauses, seems to be searching his mind for the appropriate words, "Allow it to happen naturally. Let's talk and if you smile, you smile."

"Is this what I am to look forward to on-set, too? Are you always this lackadaisical in your jobs?"

He narrows his eyes toward her, but a smirk remains etched into his lips, "Not all of us are as high maintance as you, Your Majesty."

Regina bites into her bottom lip, as hard as she can without drawing blood, a subtle substitute for the scowl that wants to emerge. Her tongue pokes out to lick at where her teeth had taken up residence prior and paints on another sweet grin, "Do you take anything seriously, Thief?"

"Oh, I'm taking this quite seriously," Robin replies before drawing a sip of his Diet Coke, swallows, and finds her eyes, holding her stare, "Regina, when you're in a role, when a director calls 'Action!', are you an actress? Or are you the character you're portraying?"

Her brows furrow, confusion settling over her at his question. "In that moment, I'm the character."

"Exactly. Why is this," He subtlely gestures between the two of them with his hand, "any different?"

This man has clearly lost whatever sense he had managed to retain if he doesn't see the dissemblance between their roles in films and this absurd concept of faking a relationship.

"It's completely different," Regina hisses, the hand that she has sitting in her lap curling into an unseen fist, "This is _me_ , this my life, not some character- "

"Except that's not entirely accurate, is it?" Robin proposes, his eyebrows lifting in tandem with the corners of his mouth, "Would you be sitting in a restaurant like this right now? Would you be wearing a dress, no matter how delectable you look in it," Regina's eyes snap up towards him at that comment and he shrugs, his grin morphing into something more sheepish than cocky, "I'm only human, Your Majesty, I can't quite deny beauty when I see it."

Regina feels a warmth zip through her body, finds her unfisted hand unconsciously flitting to her hair, which is falling in soft waves around the tops of her shoulders, pushing it behind her ear, before she realizes what she's doing and returns her hand to her lap, beneath the white table cloth, and ignoring the sensations crawling throughout her veins. She scoffs, "No one is around to hear you, Locksley, no need to lay it on so thick."

Robin appears as if he wants to argue her comment, but chooses to give a small shake of his head and returns them to his original point, "We're basically caricatures of ourselves in public, so why not embrace that 'character'? Be in the moment, this moment, rather than acting in it. Thinking of all the 'right' moves and how two friends should act as opposed to just what we'd be doing if this weren't for a job."

She begins to mull over his proposed method of action for this stunt, when he suddenly inquires "So what would you be doing?", his stare resting gently on Regina.

But no matter how easy his gaze may be, she stills the weighted beneath his bright blue orbs, unnerving her as she shifts in her seat. "What do you mean?"

"Like I said, I doubt you'd be spending your afternoon in a highly populated complex like this, so what would you, the _real_ you, be doing?"

"I thought that we're supposed to be living our characters right now," She cooly responds, flicking a pointed stare towards him as she relives his words from moments before, "Doesn't talking about our 'real' selves defeat that purpose?"

"Fine," Robin concedes with a grumble and Regina can't help but smirk, mentally patting herself on the back for outmanuevering the the smart-ass. However, her prideful grin is now wiped away by his following question. "Well, since we're getting to know each other, Regina, what is it that you like to do when I'm not squiring you about town?"

 _Damn_.

His teeth are sunken into his lip, his dimples barely concealed as he now wears a playful look of success, realizing that he has discovered an effective loophole.

She could lie, of course. In fact, he had been the one to point out that this, them sitting here, drawing the eyes (and camera lenses) towards them as they await their food and chat quietly, that she, is a character, a parody of her true self. And there's a difference between over-acting and being completely honest to herself.

However, as her eyes flick towards him again, she can't help but want to be honest. There's a little bit of one's self in every role, what's the harm, right?

She sighs and her hands slips down, fishing through her Chanel purse so that she can grasp her phone. With it in hand, she unlocks the screen and holds it out to Robin. He reacts as she expects him to, to the photo displayed on her homescreen, releasing a pleasant "Aw" that has that feeling of satisfaction swelling in Regina again.

"That's my dog," She explains, though not sure it's necessary. She retracts her phone, taking a minute to eye the image herself, as well as quickly skim a text her mother sent her (" **Pictures of you and Locksley are already posted. Well done with the hands. DO NOT SCREW THIS UP**."), then dropping it back in her designer bag.

"Who knew an Evil Queen would have a soft spot for animals," Robin chuckles, shaking his head incredulously.

Regina doesn't know why the comment stings her like a rabid bee in the harsh heat of summer, doesn't understand why the same moniker that she is hackled with daily seems to smart with an extra vigor when it comes out of his mouth, but it has her eyes shifting away from him. To the table, the wall, her purse, anywhere but him.

He must take notice because she can feel the warmth of human skin over the fabric of her dress' sleeve and she looks to find Robin's hand rubbing up, down, up down, until she finally meets his stare. "Regina, I'm sorry. I-"

"If that's what you think of me, this isn't going to work. If you believe I'm," Her breath hitches as the moniker sears the tip of her tongue, then huffs, "If you think I'm that, we have no hope in you convincing the rest of the world."

"There's always hope, milady," He notes soberly, then his nose scrunches up in a fashion that Regina would find utterly adorable if not for the irritating words that escape his mouth, "Besides, I'm a really good actor."

She wants to storm out. No, she wants to roll her eyes, send him a penetrating glare, perhaps a curse word or two, and then leave and never speak to this man again. But there are paparazzi outside, anxious to record another "Evil Queen meltdown", and she has a job on the line and Robin's hand is sliding down her arm, grasping her hand...

"Regina," He enunciates, giving her hand a squeeze like he had when they were entering the restaurant.

"I would pull my hand away if it weren't for the people watching us, you know."

"I do," He grins, a stretch of his lips bordering on mischevious, "So, for once, I'm very grateful for those intrusive pests." Even Regina can't help but snigger at that. "I was just trying to jest, to lighten the mood. I know this situation isn't exactly the most comfortable for you-"

"And calling me the 'Evil Queen' would relax me?"

"Never said it wasn't a poor attempt at a jest, milady," Robin breathily chortles, running his free hand through his hand, "I don't think I knew how much it truly bothered you and I apologize profusely, if you ask me to never utter that nickname again, I will respect that."

Regina cannot resist rolling her eyes at that, her shoulders sagging involuntarily with relief, "I don't care if you call me 'Your Majesty', I mean, I don't think I'll be able to stop calling you Thief," Robin snickers along with her and she continues, "I just didn't want you thinking that's me."

"I don't know you," He honestly admits and it's a fact she can't deny, so she nods along. He smiles, gently, "But I'd still like to. So, tell me about this canine of yours."

Regina never thought she'd be someone who could light up at the mention of her pet, but, here she is, her chest puffing with pride and, without being able to see herself, she can imagine a beaming grin brightening her face. "He's a chocolate lab, named Henry..."

"Henry, not a name you hear often these days."

"It's my father's name," She murmurs, mind darting to Henry Mills, the human equivalent, a kind-hearted, mild-mannered man, short in statuesque with gray, balding hair, who is back home in New York. She allows a giggle to escape past her lips, "He, to this day, still teases me about it."

"I'm sure," Robin chuckles, "Not everyday you have a dog named after you. What an honor."

Regina playfully gives him a shove with her free hand, the other still enclosed within his own, "It was when I first came out to L.A. about 10 years ago. I was alone and missing home and had no business taking care of something other than myself, but the run-down, ratty apartment I was living in shared a wall with a woman whose dog had given birth to puppies and.."

"Henry." He supplies for her and she nods, once again.

"He just gave me comfort, still does, actually. It's not the same as having my father here, but, at least it makes it a little less lonely coming home at night."

"So your father doesn't live out here?" Robin asks and Regina shakes her head.

She's about to reply when the waitress returns, her hands filled by a tray carrying their meals. She serves them each and asks if they need anything else. Robin and Regina both decline and that's when Ashley ducks her head, teetering back and forth on her feet before she finally caves and requests if she can have Robin's autograph. He laughs off her shyness, exclaiming "Of course, darling!" and borrowing the Tony's employee's pen, scrawling out a message and signing his name at the bottom. She thanks him profusely and Regina has to purse her lips to keep herself quiet.

Once Ashley skitters away, though, she doesn't withhold her scoff and disentangles their still joined hands and Robin glances at her with amusement, "Is someone jealous?"

"Jealous? Of a flighty fangirl's attention? Hardly."

"Sure, whatever you say," He guffaws, popping a seasoned French fry into his mouth, chewing, swallowing, and then saying, "So your Dad, he doesn't live out here, but your Mum does? Divorced?"

Regina shrugs, pouring a generous ("Too generous", she hears her mother's voice in her ear) amount of Italian vinaigrette over her dish of lettuce, apples, gorgonzola, and other ingredients, "Not divorced, just not.. together. They never really have been. Cora didn't exactly marry for love and my father didn't much care once she gave him a daughter."

"No wonder your mother didn't oppose this... arrangement," Robin comments, almost baffled, and it's not unfathomable that he would be- Regina was raised by Cora Mills and still doesn't understand the woman.

"Honestly, I'm just happy she didn't sell me off to the highest bidder; though I didn't give her the opportunity, coming out here right out of high school." She cringes as she remembers her mother's insistent introductions between Regina and her father's business colleagues. "It's always better to retain important contacts, dear. You never know when they may come in handy," which would usually be followed by a wink, then a holler for Cora's husband.

That's just how it was for the Mills women, at least, before Regina, that is. Men were used, in all manners, to benefit the social standing and gain advantages in life. Cora's mother, Zelena, the grandmother Regina never knew, left her old life (and daughter!) behind, in favor of running off with some technology wizard for the country's time period. Then, Cora, raised by her father of meager means, married Regina's father, heir to a thoroughbred horse breeding farm, not long after graduating high school.

Robin tsks, scrubbing a hand over his face, "If it's success she admires in a man, it's a wonder she didn't matchmake between you and Gold."

Regina shivers at the mere thought of that man touching her in any intimate way, then snorts, "God, no. I'd head back East before I ever let that happen. Besides, I think she wants him for herself, anway."

Robin nearly chokes on his soda, coughing several times as his eyes widen, "Excuse me?"

Regina smirks at his reaction, stabbing at a chunk of apple, "It's a relatively unspoken thing, but they definitely _collaborate_ on much more than a business level."

"And this is okay with you?"

Not really, no. The idea of her mother's sexual life, period, disgusts her, much less with her own boss and, not to mention, she always feels a pang of sympathy for her father back home, but she has no say in who Gold or Cora associate with outside of their business with Regina and she's quite certain Henry is even more content without his "wife" around. So she shrugs and mutters, "It is what it is."

"And I assume Gold isn't a love affair, either?" Robin suggests, licking some marinara sauce off his finger- an action that Regina finds far too distracting and she forces herself to give a curt nod and focus on her food in front of her.

"I think she believes love is weakness," She responds, bringing a forkful of salad up to her mouth to eat and while she chews, she observes Robin's shoulders slump and a brief nod of his head. Regina sips at her iced tea and questions, "You agree?"

"No, well, I think it depends on the type of love," He answers nonchalantly, munching into his sandwich. While he chews, he offers Regina a fry and she shakes her head, despite the delicious aroma of blended spices tempting her tastebuds. "The love of a dog, now that I can understand."

"You have a dog?" Regina's eyebrows lift in surprise and he laughs heartily.

"I do. A poodle mutt."

"Poodle? Really?" She tries, and fails, to stifle the hilarity she finds in his words.

"Real men have poodles, Your Majesty," Robin teases with a mocking glare and he expands further, "We adopted him from an animal shelter back home."

"'We'?"

A slight grimace passes his expression and he bites firmly into a bundle of fries, "My ex and I."

"Ah, the weakness, I suppose?" Regina assumes, smirking, but receives a casual shake of his head, "No? You did say you've been single for the past three years, it'd make sense."

"Marian and I's breakup," He begins, sucking in a breath, "It needed to end. We just grew into different people, that's the problem with primary school sweethearts. I was the one who ended it."

Well, that's a bit of a shock.

Regina's mouth opens and closes, realizing she is wrong, but not knowing how to talk without admitting it. He seems to understand, and take mercy on her this time, speaking again.

"Me being single had everything with finally getting my career off the ground, not Marian. She didn't leave me brokenhearted, nor I her. If anything, it hurt our families more than us."

Regina wants to investigate that point further, suddenly has several questions pertaining to this man, who she has known for less than a week, his past, his present, and, for the next year, _their_ future, but, unlike her mother, she respects boundaries and remains silent. Instead, she follows the pause with a lighthearted, "And you kept the dog, whose name is still left blank to me."

"Oh, I was the one who wanted the mutt to begin with, there was no way I would allow Roland to leave my side, luckily Marian concurred."

"Roland? And you thought 'Henry' was an unusual name selection?"

Robin laughs, conceding easily, "He was named after Roland Orzabal of the-"

"Wouldn't have pegged you for a new wave kind of guy. You seem much too.. folksy."

"I wish I could argue with you, milady," And she believes him, notices the glint in his eye as he says it, knows he already likes sparring with her, "But, indeed, it wasn't my choice- that was the arrangement. I wanted the dog, so Marian chose the name. I'm bowled over that you know of Tears for Fears."

"Who doesn't know 'Everybody Wants to Rule the World'?" She fails to mention that the only version of the song that she owns is a cover by mainstream artist, Lorde.

"Well, colour me impressed, Your Majesty."

Regina bows her head, hoping the flush she feels internally at his words doesn't flame her cheeks. Why the hell should she care if she's impressed him?

"You know," She begins, desperately trying to distract herself from her reactions to her co-star, "With both of us having dogs, that could set up a good situation for this pre-shooting plot."

"Haven't a clue what you're talking about," Robin throws her a cheeky grin, then extends a fry to her again, "Please eat this, it is scrumptious and I know you'd enjoy it a bloody lot more than that rabbit food."

Regina cocks her head to the side, assaulting him with a withering gaze, "And what makes you think you know my appetite so well? I thought you didn't know me."

"Because I doubt even the most self-controlled person could deny chips perfectly charred to a crisp."

She glances between Robin and the French fry, one temptation to another, it appears. She takes a chance, leaning forward and biting into the fry as he holds it, moans as the savvy combination of flavors caresses her palette, and then swallows hard, meeting his fierce stare.

"That'll be a great shot," He mumbles, breaking character for the first time during their lunch, handing her the remaining piece of fry and she scoffs, attempting to adapt her usual confidence into this situation.

"I'm nothing if not resourceful, you'd do well not to forget that, Thief."

He smirks and the tension has been abated for the time being, thankfully, "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, Your Majesty."

They finish their lunch, bringing the topic back to music (she discovers he's into much more acoustic sounds, like Crosby, Stills, & Nash and Keb' Mo', while she admits her affinity for her birth decade of the 80's, from Bowie to Journey), they briefly discuss Robin's home country (the few times Regina has visited, how she'd love to return one day and his occasional bout of homesickness, despite the 'tiff' with his family), and how they, each, unraveled and embraced their love of acting (Regina, from the age of a toddler, putting on skits to garner her parents' attention, then, later, being entranced by performances of the "Old Hollywood" greats like Elizabeth Taylor, while Robin bloomed late, finding a passion for theatre in high school, on a fateful day when he was asked to step out from the set design crew and fill in for one of the "stars" of a show), and "pay" for their meal- Gold had had their tab covered in advance- then make their way to leave.

"Ready?" Robin whispers in her ear, his hand traveling to her lower back, almost guiding her to Tony's entrance.

She wets her lips quickly, then retrieves her sunglasses, masking her eyes, which, no doubt, are already hazy from the small frenzy that has been clamoring outside of the restaurant, "If they want to see their 'Queen', well, here she is."

"Just ignore them," He advises her and she thinks she imagines the timid growl that peeks through his words.

She doesn't answer, just walks ahead and he follows suit, his hand keeping purchase above her rear.

They walk outside to a doubled amount of photographers than before. "Can you respond to the rumors about Killian Jones being hired for _Heroes & Villains_?!" "Robin, Ed Sheeran said he's a big fan! What do you think?!" "Regina, were you really replaced by Cate Blanchett for _Cinderella_ for being _too_ convincing?!" "Will we be seeing more of you two?!" "You're an attractive couple! Give us a smile!"

A jumbled mess of questions, some flattering, some insulting, some downright amusing (Regina never even auditioned for _Cinderella_ , is under a strict contract with Golden Spun Studios), but she does answer the simple "How was lunch?!" with a "It was wonderful, as it always is."

She and Robin sign a few autographs and snap a few pictures with the minute group of fans that have gathered, receiving hugs and giving their thanks to the enthusiasts for their support, before hopping into the SUV, each blowing out a huff of relief.

They turn to one another and share a muted laugh and the sentence slips out of Regina's mouth before she process her words, "I was thinking next time we could take the dogs for a walk." Robin's brows raise, obviously accosted by Regina's atypical, in this circumstance, behavior of taking the inititive. She quickly amends her suggestion, "It'll look good for the 'Celebs - They're Just Like You!' magazine section."

"I think it's absolutely brilliant," He concurs with haste, a smile forming on his lips, highlighting those devilish dips of his dimples, "It's also nice to know you're not too sick of me yet."

Regina nibbles at the inside of her cheek, hoping the way her heart is thumping against her ribcage is from the adrenaline of the public hoopla they just endured and nothing else, managing an eyeroll as she mumbles, "You wish. Now, let's ring Gold and give him an update."


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Oy. So I should be updating my other OQ AU "If You Love Me Right"... Key word being "should be". LOL. But this little fic, which was supposed to be just a one shot to begin with, has been inspiring me like CRAZY and y'all have been a big part of that. I am SO grateful to the amazing response to this fic. Thank you so much for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing. It really means everything to me and I hope you continue to enjoy for many chapters to come!**

 **And a big thank you to Zoe and Melis for all their help and support! They are two of the most talented writers I have ever encountered and I'm very fortunate to call these fantastic fic-sters my friends, as well as be a major fan of them both. Go read, follow, favorite, review, if you have inexplicably yet to: mysterious-song and ohmyhelena.)**

* * *

 _ **A Thief and a Queen: Hollywood's New and Unlikely 'It' Couple?**_

 _We didn't see this one coming! Rumors are swirling that actress Regina Mills' heart has been stolen by British actor, Robin Locksley, after the two were spotted holding hands in Los Angeles._

 _The pair were seen walking into Tony's, an Italian restaurant at the Grove,_ _known for their celebrity clientele,_ _on Wednesday, June 2- and getting very cozy inside. "They were holding hands and smiling and sitting really close together, it was cute," An eyewitness tells us. A source adds, "There is definitely a connection there."_

 _That connection may be helpful when they start working their new film together, the Ella Feinberg directed "Heroes & Villains", the highly anticipated adaptation of Isaac Heller's New York Times best-selling novel. Filming is slated to start next week in Toronto._

 _Locksley, 32, is best known for his break-out role in 2014's "The Thief", which made him a household name in his home country. Meanwhile, Mills, 29, is more noted for her personal life, including_ _reported outrageous onset antics_ _and a_ _heated feud with former co-star, Mary Margaret Blanchard,_ _which earned her the nickname Evil Queen._

 _But perhaps the absence of a King is what she needed all along!_

 _Reps for the two actors are not commenting on this budding relationship, but Locksley told a photog, outside the restaurant, that they are just "two co-workers getting to know one another" while Mills commented, as they were leaving, that their time together was "wonderful" and "always is"._

 _For more stories, scoop, and_ -"

Regina tosses her iPad onto the coffee table in front of her and sinking back into the cusions of her sofa, releases a frustrated growl to match the excessive roll of her eyes. "I said that about the lunch, not him," She grumbles, irritation flooding through her as she processes the words she just read from some salicious entertainment website.

It was far from the only article that has been written about her and Robin so far. Gold was right, as painful as it is to admit, Regina and Robin's "budding relationship", as this periodical had referred to it, is catching like wildfire throughout the Hollywood gossip scene. Their lunch date was even featured on a segment of _E! News._

Sure, this publicity act is working like a charm, but that doesn't mean it still isn't rubbing Regina the wrong way, especially when every magazine, blog, and television show are still referring to her as the "Evil Queen", recounting the incident with Mary Margaret, and offering links to pieces that had been previously written about Regina's fabricated behavior.

"You know those rags only care about how many bloody clicks they get; you just have to ignore whatever those sods write that isn't about us," Robin had instructed her when they had spoken on the phone last night.

Initially a quick call to discuss today's plans, had turned into an hour and a half conversation, topics ranging from what their dogs had been doing at the time to their favorite television shows at the moment (she had bashfully admitted to still being a loyal _Grey's Anatomy_ fan, while she had discovered he prefers sitcoms from his homeland like his past favorites _Miranda_ and _My Family_ ), then the exchange had inevitably switched to the ramifications of their outing to Tony's the week prior.

"I don't know why I'm reading what they write at all," Regina had sighed, then, "What does it matter to me what they write about us? This is Gold's mastermind, _he_ should be the one paying attention to it."

"Idle curiousity, I'd imagine," Robin had offered in return, then Regina had been able to practically hear his smirk as he had crooned, "You're probably just waiting to see their explanation as to how I was fortunate enough to 'steal your heart'."

Regina had chewed on her bottom lip, had been grateful niether he, nor she herself, could see the heat that she had felt enflame her cheeks. She had sucked in an inaudiable breath, then scoffed, "Alright, Thief, do I need to start calling you Romeo now?"

"What can I say? Practice makes perfect, right?" He had guffawed in reply, had eased Regina with his raspy, deep chuckle, but, simultaneously, had prickled her nerves with the unwelcome reminder that their life has been transformed into a hellish juggle of truthful tête-a-têtes and PR performances.

It's a recent memory that grounds her thoughts back into the present, has her huffing out a breath as she reaches down beside her on the couch, fingers coming into contact with the silky locks of a laborador retriever. "Ready for your closeup today, boy? Hmm?" She hums to Henry, scratching behind his left ear.

Robin will be here soon, his own canine in tow, for their walk in the more "secluded" nature sectors of L.A., but open enough for photographers to take a series of long-range shots.

Calculatedly candid, Regina thinks with a bitter smile.

Right on time, there's a knock at her door and she sighs, heaving herself up off the sofa. Henry jumps down, following at her feet. He's never been the kind of dog to make incessant noise, but he has the inquistive nature embedded in most animals (humans, too, as her mind wanders to the articles about Robin and herself, people across the world reading it with interest), so as she opens her door, he wriggles himself in front of her, poking his head, tongue wagging and all, out to greet their guest.

"Well, hello there, fella." Regina hears his voice, the melodic timbre of his accent speaking in a gentle tone, before she sees him, but when she does, she finds herself swallowing hard.

He looks good. _Really_ good.

He's sporting a pair of dark cargo shorts, showing off his toned legs between their hem and his Nike tennis shoes, with a well-fitted cotten t-shirt, exposing the contours of his body through the thinly veiled material. But it's not his clothing, nor his physique, that have Regina feeling flushed - it's the way he's looking at her.

Robin is standing in her doorway, his eyes traveling down the expanse of her body, up, and then down again. She feels heavy under his gaze, his expression giving her no indication to what he is thinking.

"What?" She finally snaps, because she'll be damned if she waits another second with nothing but the sound of her own pulse thumping within her as comfort.

He shakes his head, as if jarring himself out of a trance, and clears his throat, "My apologies, milady. I've just yet to see you dressed so.. casually."

A self-conscious hand involuntarily runs itself over the front of her clothing. It's true, she has taken his advice not to "act" this role they're in and simply live it, instead. So for a relaxed walk with their pets, she has chosen to wear her favorite jeans, the ones that have the knee and several other holes cut out, with a New York Giants tank top and a worn pair of converse sneakers. Her hair is parted and pulled back into a short ponytail, the layers of her bangs that are lacking in length hang in tendrils on the right side and she brushes them behind her ear with her fingers now.

"You were the one -" She begins to argue, but is quickly interrupted as Robin says her name and her brow furrows at him.

"This is the most beautiful I've seen look thus far," He admits softly, yet confidently, and she almost believes his words and the smile contorting across his lips, but she remembers that she's also barely wearing makeup (some tinted moisturizer, with sunscreen included, and concealer to hide dark circles, evidence of her inability to sleep since this charade began), so she simply scoffs and he rolls his eyes, asking, "I assume this is more authentic to who you are?"

"It is," Regina answers, her hands finding purchase on her hips, "And my mother will probably strangle me for it later."

Robin chuckles, but Regina can see a darkness cloud his eyes, a hidden sincerity behind a joke as he says, "Well, point her to me, I'd be more than happy to tell her all the ways she's wrong." He would, she realizes, sending a shiver racing down her spine. He'd go to her abhorrent "momager" and defend Regina's appearance with earnest.

She decides to change the subject - has to before she trips head first into the delusion of the "relationship" she is cultivating with this man - and gestures to the mound of fur that is currently vibrating in Robin's arms, "This is Roland, I take it?"

"Indeed," He nods, bending down and carefully dropping the pooch to the floor, who, upon paws hitting cherry hardwood, sprints towards Regina, bouncing at her feet, "I'm not sure why he's so excitable today, he's usually quite shy around unfamiliar people."

Regina is not one for giggling, but animals have always been her weakness and she cannot deny that the one vying for her attention now is no exception. She squats to the poodle's level, and, yes, Robin had said that Roland's breed was mixed with another, but from his short statute and the abundance of darkly colored curls that cover him, Regina never would've guessed he had any other type within his DNA.

Roland is panting heavily, his mouth spread wide, his grin nearly matching his owner's (Regina swears she can almost see dimples poking through the tuffs of fur), and he instantly rolls onto his back, relishing in Regina's touch as she reaches down and rubs at his exposed tummy, "He's a sweetheart."

"Seems your own furry prince is one of the same, Your Majesty," Robin lifts her attention and she finds her costar scratching behind Henry's left ear - like she always does, "Henry seems very well-behaved."

"He should be," Regina laughs, standing to her feet, much to the displeasure of a whimpering Roland, "I ate nothing but tomato soap and grilled cheese for a month to afford to send him to the best training school I could find."

"I happen to think that sounds like a delicious meal," Robin comments with a smirk and bends at the waist, pressing a kiss to Henry's snout, a gesture that has Regina's breath catching in her throat, fisting the hem of her Giants shirt in her hands in an attempt to keep her hands off of _him_ , "And very much worth it for such a good dog."

She hums in agreement, shifts her gaze back down to Roland who is now watching Robin and Henry, his little head tilting side to side, curls shaking to and frow.

"So, shall we get going?" Robin asks suddenly, "It's nearing noon, wouldn't want to get out there while the pests are on lunch break from stalking people." He jests easily, a thoraty chortle emitting from him and Regina forces a smile in return.

Keep your eye on the prize, Mills, she chastises herself. This is still a job, she can't be getting distracted into thinking otherwise.

"You're right," She vocally concurs, then lifts her finger once she sees his mouth open and that mischevious glint in his eye, "Don't get used to me saying that, thief."

"All the more reason to savor it on this rare occasion, Your Majesty," He grins, even wider when rolls her eyes, "So, you are more acquainted with this area, this country, really, than I am. Where do we suggest we go?"

"I was actually just thinking we could go beyond the gate; it's still relatively quiet, but they know many celebrities live around here so they're never that far. Plus, it's easier than packing up both the dogs in a car and braving traffic to get to an actual trail," Regina explains, as she moves across her foyer, retrieving Henry's leash and hooking it up his plaid-designed collar, "Did you have any trouble at the gate? Leroy can be a bit of a hard ass."

She lives in a quaint, gated community, highly secure and very exclusive. Her home, a 9,000+ square foot mansion, with more room and amenities than Regina knows what to do with, was purchased more for the privacy it offered rather than the actual living accommodations. Leroy, head of security, usually tends to the gates, monitoring who goes in and out, and while she had called down there and given him Robin's name and description, she was surprised Leroy let him through without Regina trekking to the front entrance and identifying her guest herself.

But Robin shakes his head, "No, it was painless and it's a small price to pay for your protection. Quite impressive, really. Perhaps I shall become your neighbor."

"For my protection?" Regina raises her eyebrows in surprise, struggling to maintain the level of her voice.

"For my own," He replies with a cheeky chuckle, "I'll have a hoard of jealous wankers coming after me since I'm 'courting' you."

Regina laughs out loud, placing a palm against her diagraphm as it rumbles, "I highly doubt that will be an issue. The only male you may have to fight is Henry and look at him," Henry is at Robin's side again, his leash stretched the distance from where she stands, "You didn't even have to bribe him with a cinnamon-honey biscuit."

"Perhaps _you're_ the jealous one, Mills," He insists with an added wink and she just shakes her head, incredulously, at him, handing him the handle of Henry's leash, taking Roland's for herself as she passes the canine's owner.

"You wish," She murmurs, tugging Roland along with her outside of the door, pushing the sunglasses she had grabbed onto her face, "Let's go, Locksley. We have a walk to take."

* * *

The pair walked to the gate of Regina's residentual compound, waving to a scowling Leroy as they left, as well as trading back leashes as they exited onto the treeline streets outside of the gate, where they're strolling now.

"Think they're snapping yet?" Robin asks her after a moment of silence, an inquiry Regina almost doesn't hear as her mind focuses on how their free hands keep brushing against one another's with each step.

"Probably, they usually hide out all around here since they can't get into the actual gate," She answers, finally lifting her offending, traitorous hand, adjusting her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, "It only got worse when Orlando Bloom was spotted here a few months ago."

"Bloom, huh?" Robin chuckles, scolding Roland for veering towards the paved street, "Well as much as I want to be... 'proud', I suppose, of my fellow Brit, I would assume you'd be a bigger attraction for these people than he is."

Regina shrugs, "I've never been one to go out to clubs or be excessively seen, so, well, _usually_ , their only real stories of me come from set."

"I must be the bad influence in this relationship, then," He jokes, suddenly grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his mouth, placing a kiss, then another, to her knuckles. He doesn't allow their hands to disentangle, his palm cupping her own between them, as he lowers them back to their sides, "I am pleased you're more relaxed now, though. I had expected you to be fake smiling, planning, perhaps, for our leashes to become intertwined."

"There's still time," She teases, nudging her shoulder against his own, her eyes pinching shut afterwards, cursing the familiarity that seems to unconsciously befall them. She straightens her spine, tugging her hand out of his under the guise of petting Henry, "Besides, I don't care about 'pleasing' you, I care about this whole thing working and I've never been accused of overacting in any role, I won't allow this one to be any different."

She doesn't look towards him, keeps her eyes focused in front of her as they continue on, step after step, but she knows he's perplexed by her rush of coldness as he directs their conversation towards a neutral topic, "Well, it appears to working splendidly, so far. They'e even debating between 'Lockills', 'Robgina', and the like. Absurd, if you ask me, but I hear that's a good sign for what we want to achieve."

Regina snorts, "Unfortunately, yes, the combination of our names is an excellent sign, as petulant as it may be. I've seen us dubbed 'Evil Thief' a few times, as well."

"Well, I refuse that one entirely."

"Not exactly up to us," She reminds with a laugh and he just shakes his head from the corner of her eye.

"I beg to differ. That's one of my jobs in this charade, is it not? To defend you?" They stop at a street corner and Regina forces herself to turn to him, seeing him observing her (intensely, she can decifer, even behind his own shades), "You're not 'The Evil Queen', not anymore. That's our goal and I promise you, it'll be a distant memory by the time this is over."

He speaks so passionately and, not for the first time, Regina finds herself utterly befuddled by his words, his actions, his presence. It has her biting down on her bottom lip, huffing out an irritated breath, though she can't pinpoint exactly what's aggitating her, let alone what she can say.

Luckily, Robin interjects, taking her hand once more, this time lacing their fingers together, "Let's go."

"What?" Regina guffaws, eyes widening as he gives her hand a squeeze.

"They have enough of their bloody pictures," He reasons, then cocks his head vaguely to the left, "And about a mile that way, there is a beautiful clearing. Come on."

His urging has her considering the possibility, a smile slipping over her lips as she imagines a truly private respite from an already stressful day, but she decides on practicality over tranquilty, "We've only been walking a few minutes, this day is supposed to be about as much exposure as-"

Her eyes find his and it halts her midsentence. His stare is weighted with unspoken words, pleading with her to remember their pact about not allowing this ruse to overwhelmingly control their actions.

"I thought that you weren't that 'acquainted' with the area and suddenly you know exactly where to go?"

"I'm not without a few surprises up my sleeve, Your Majesty."

Regina groans, knows she's fighting a losing battle, but offers, "What about the dogs? Henry is ten and Roland isn't solidly built."

"I'll have you know that all Locksley men, canine or otherwise, are _built_ very well, thank you," Robin asserts and Regina feels her cheeks flush, well aware that it has nothing to do with the summer sun of Los Angeles in June.

She concedes to the smile desperately pulling at the corners of her lips, as well as concedes to him with a nod of her head, "I have no doubt. But he is still a smaller animal. Do you think they can do a mile walk? On top of what we've done already?"

"I think they're up for the challenge, aren't you boys?" Robin speaks directly to their pets, wrapping Roland's leash around his wrist, so he can ruffle the dogs' fur without dropping her hand, Regina realizes. Both Henry and Roland are dancing with enthusiasm, tongues hanging out, eyes flitting between both the adults. "You wouldn't want to disappoint them, now would you?"

Robin is beaming with hope, himself, and Regina can only snicker at his boyish grin. She releases an extraggerated breath of defeat, "Well I can't disappoint the _dogs_ , can I?"

* * *

The trek to the field isn't terribly rough. Roland has a little trouble keeping up with Henry, but they maintain a moderate speed and both dogs appear to do alright with a bit of adjustment. Robin and Regina, meanwhile, are more than alright, their conversation flowing with the ease it has since they met and even their brief pauses lack the awkwardness that one would expect from most breaks in exchanges.

Robin wasn't exaggerating when he described the clearing as beautiful. It is green grass covered field, sitting atop a small hill, with hundred foot tall trees lining the perimeter. They're the only two (well, four) there, a hidden oasis just for them.

He, upon reaching their destination, physically and audibly relaxes, allowing an "Ahh" to slip past his lips as his eyes devor the scenery surrounding them.

"You're an outdoorsy guy." It's more of a statement than a question, Regina already knows the answer as Robin practically unwinds before her eyes. Not that he's a particularly tense person, in fact, he has been the only one, as of late, who can alleviate the stress from Regina, but perhaps that's why she never noticed how truly out of his element he had been - compared to seeing him now.

"I grew up just outside of Essex," He begins and Regina nods along to signify her attention, "We were fortunate enough to have a bit of acreage, so it just became a part of my daily life, being outdoors."

"And what would you do outdoors during all those days?" She asks, the words leaving her mouth before her brain really processed them, but it appears her curiousity when it comes to Robin, especially to his past self her mind is conjuring: his hair probably brighter from hours spent in the sun, his arms and legs probably marred with scratches and bruises from being a rambunctious young boy, his dimples not as deeply dug into his skin as they are now...

"Be honest, are you picturing some _Oliver Twist_ type of life?" He teases her, chuckling along with his own joke as he squeezes her hand (the conjoined ones that they had yet to seperate since Robin had taken hers in his own at the end of the street near Regina's neighborhood) and he guides her over to the flat spot in the terrain, shaded by one of the larger trees.

They sit down on the grass, Henry and Roland dropping beside them, both dogs lying contently, spread out, basking in being out from underneath the sun. As they settle into their spot, Regina's calves burning after the exertion that has been placed on them today, Robin delves back into his past.

"I did what most lads my age did. Climbed trees, kicked around the football, go riding..."

"Horseback riding?" Regina cannot resist interrupting and he seems surprised, his eyebrows raised, an amused smirk playing across his lips, and he nods in confirmation. "I used to be a championship rider."

"Oh, I'm sure you're the best damn rider there is, Your Majesty," Robin vollies towards her and she finds herself having to duck her head to conceal the blush threatening to creep onto her cheeks, the rascally inneundo not lost on either of them.

"I'll have to show you how well I can ride," She licks her lips, raising her head to meet his gaze, his blue eyes a darker hue than normal, "Though it's been a few years."

"I can always go easy on you," He supplies, his thumb wiping back and forth across the back of her hand, his stare locked on hers.

She shakes her head, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she leans towards him, just a shuffle of movement, barely an inch, and murmurs, "My father would be very disappointed if my riding abilities have faded that much."

The spell is broken and Regina is laughing uncontrollably as Robin blinks, mystified, at her. And between hiccups of giggles, she explains, "My father is a horse breeder, it was what I was always around as a kid, so he taught me how to ride and I started entering competitions when I was about eight."

"Your first stage," He notes and she hums in agreement, never thinking of it in that sense, but he's right. "It must be nice, being that close with your Dad."

He lays back onto the grass, inadvertantly yanking her down beside him until their both lying on their backs, laced fingers and kissing palms resting between them, both staring up at the sky.

"You and your parents really aren't close, are you?" She asks, softly, knows that he volunteered the topic of conversation first, but not one to usually pry into these types of personal matters.

"They wanted me to be more than what I wanted," He exhales, continuing, "Truthfully, they couldn't give a toss what I did professionally, their concern was me marrying a nice girl and providing them with all the granchildren I could. It's what my Dad did, my grandad did. I think there was an extra expectation for it from me since my Mum wasn't able to conceive after having me."

"Well, I think this act would be going a little far if we married and you knocked me up," Regina ribs, maintaining the air of levity in their conversation before she surmises, "So they expected you to make up them being able to only have one child."

"That's my theory. As you can see, I've been a right failure in that department."

"So that's why you said they took it hardest when you and Marian broke up," Regina shocks herself recalling his ex-girlfriend's name, but if he's impressed by her knowledge of him, he doesn't let on, just replying with a "Correct" and so she changes the subject, "Are they proud of your career at least? They'd have to be."

"I haven't talked to them enough to find out. Though, I gave up trying to please them a long time ago," It's a lesson that Regina needs to learn, she admits to herself, her constant wondering of her mother's perception of her not becoming any healthier as the years tick by, "As long as I'm satisfied, that's all that matters."

"And are you?" She asks, rolling onto her side and he flicks his eyes towards her, wearing an impish expression, "Satisfied, that is?"

"The press assumes we're a little less clothed than this when you ask me that question, love." She playfully whacks him on the chest, an action that has both Henry and Roland's heads popping up and staring at her with as much disapproval as dogs can show.

"Can you manage to be serious?" She tries to scold, but her remaining smile doesn't help her cause, so she questions, "What do you think of _H &V?_ Are you pleased with being a part of it?"

"I'm excited, actually," He responds almost immediately, turning to face her, his head propped up by his hand and elbow, "I'm quite intrigued by Ella Feinberg, I've heard many a tale about her antics, but she appears to be a brilliant director nonetheless."

"I worked with her before, a few years ago, when she was a little greener and my reputation was less spotty. She's definitely... unique, but it's because she accepts nothing but the best."

"Sounds strikingly similar to someone else," Robin remarks, placing a quick kiss to her hand of their interlocked limbs, she imagines he's easing the blow of what he assumes could be an insulting statement.

"That's how it should be," She shrugs, knows she's treading the terrority of why she's "The Evil Queen", so she poses to him, "Heller seems great."

"He does," Robin concurs of _Heroes & Villains_ author and, now, screenwriter and producer, "Very passionate about bringing his creation to life. You're the only one of the cast I've met so far, though. What's this Killian Jones fellow like?"

"I would've thought you two would know each other already, coming from the same side of the pond."

"Well he's been working on this side a bit longer."

"True," Regina remembers, then takes a minute to ponder her answer, "I've met him a couple of times, at different events. He and Gold have an.. ambiguous relationship, so they always seem to circle one another. He's charming, opinionated, a little arrogant, but any actor worth their salt is, so."

"Sounds like he and I will have no problem getting along," Robin jokes and Regina rolls her eyes, adding a "No, I don't think you will."

"We do have to play mates in the film," He says, "Maybe a camaraderie off screen will add to the performance."

"You know people will be thinking the same of us," Regina reminds, as they're not only "lovers" in this tabloid theatre, but in the movie as well. She plays Wilma, a bandit on the run from a deranged mistress of magic, when she stumbles across Robin's character, Rich, another outlaw on the run, who aids her in, first fleeing, but eventually defeating the villain. The literary love story has been one of the most popular in several years, fans intensely invested in "Outlaw Bandit's" relationship and how Robin and Regina will bring them to life onscreen.

It's extra pressure to know that people will believe them to be in love as themselves, not just as Rich and Wilma.

"I don't believe that'll be a problem, milady," Robin dissuades with ease, "If there's one thing we are not lacking in, it's chemistry."

"I would also hope 'acting ablities' make the cut, as well," She half-heartedly chides.

Robin scoots closer to her and Regina can feel goosebumps popping up over her skin, from the base of her neck, down her arms, "You're not wrong, Your Majesty, but acting won't be as important when I'm slamming you against a tree and ravaging you."

She feels herself stop breathing entirely, forcing herself to not look at the number of trees that currently embrace them, though she knows he's supposed to be talking about their characters.

He smirks, "Was that convincing enough? Or should I make myself more smoldering?" He attempts a dramatized lustful mask and it breaks the tension, has her using her free hand to cover her mouth to suppress the laughter.

"I think that smolder is 'on fleek' as the kids say," His features contorted into one of confusion makes her chuckle further and she amends, "The smolder is great. Wilma won't know what hit her."

"Something tells me she'll give as good as she gets."

Regina sucks in a breath at his words, pushing herself past the attraction to the man beside her that keeps poking at her, "Speaking of which, we leave for Toronto next week, Tuesday, actually. We should probably put as much focus into the characters we're being paid to play, as much as we are to the ones we're portraying now."

Robin sobers at her words, his grin diminishing slowly and he sits up, Regina following his lead, "Right, yes, you're right."

"And all is right with the world," She teases, nudging his shoulder, the physical contact, once again, drawing the ire of their dogs and she can't help but narrow her eyes at Henry, then at Robin, "He's known you two hours and he's already betraying me in favor of you."

"I tend to have that effect on people - and now animals, apparently," He cockily boasts and she would have whapped him across his chest again if 1. She didn't want to be in the dog house, quite literally, with her own pet, and 2. She isn't more preoccupied by the nagging voice chanting "Like mother, like son" in her head.

"I'm glad they get along," Robin abruptly comments, observing Henry and Roland, both of whom have laid back down, the more petite of the pets twitching in his sleep, nearly kicking Regina's labrador as a result, but Henry pays it no mind.

"Henry hasn't been around a lot of other dogs, he's probably jusy grateful to have someone other than me to entertain him."

"You know," Robin starts and she swears she can detect an edge of uncertainty, anxiety, in his voice, "If we flew together to Canada on Tuesday, it might be good for both of them, to have a buddy on such a big adventure. We could also use our time in the air to go over the script, have a better grasp on our characters, our relationship, for when we meet with Ella and Isaac."

"It'll also look good for pictures," She points out, grasping at anything to justify her traveling along side him when she is perfectly capable of doing so on her own, "Gold can probably orchastrate a great airport ambush."

"You won't mind being stuck in tight quarters with me, Your Majesty?"

"I should be asking you that, thief."

"I think I will manage to survive."

"Oftly sure of yourself, aren't you?"

"I've been told 'any actor worth their salt' happens to be, yes."

Regina smirks, enjoying their lively banter, "Well hopefully your salt can rise to the occasion."

"I haven't had any complaints before," His tongue jets out, wetting his lips with haste and she has to roll her eyes, primarily to extract her gaze from his mouth. Robin implements an offended expression, "Is something about my salt amusing to you, milady?"

"Many things are amusing about you, Locksley."

"And yet you're agreeing to spend more time with me, traveling no less," He seems to derive pleasure in mentioning, cocking his head to the side as he looks at her.

"Perhaps I'm just very dedicated to my job, which, for this year, includes being with you," Regina reminds, him or herself, she's no longer sure, but his eyes sparkle against the afternoon sun bouncing off the leaves of the trees and dimples etch farther into his skin as his grin grows.

"Perhaps, indeed."


	4. Chapter 4

"Wow."

It's a simple word, an expression of amazement, released through a breath against Regina's ear, tickling her skin, sending a shiver of satisfaction sprinting down her spine.

"I'll admit, it's impressive," She nods, then purses her lips in an effort to conceal a smirk as she mutters, "It's not the biggest I've seen, though."

Robin scoffs from behind her and they're close enough that Regina can feel the puff of his chest against her back, "Who are you kidding, Your Majesty? It's the biggest, the best, and the added bonus: You get to experience it with me."

"Cocky as ever," She rolls her eyes, though her mouth inadvertently curls into a smile. He rounds her, wearing a grin of his of his own- adding a brightness in contrast to the grey sky overcasting the tarmac they are standing on, "So this is your first time on a private jet?"

"Indeed, I am a virgin," Robin jokes, shoving his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket, bouncing on the balls of his feet, almost as if he's apprehensive about his following question, "I take it this is not your first forte into the exclusive realm of flying?"

"Once or twice," Regina volleys a tease back at him, adding a wink, "Are you ready to go?"

"Absolutely. You grab the dogs, I'll get the bags-" He begins, but she reaches out and touches his arm to halt him from turning to return to their car. A car service had first fetched Regina and Henry, then they had driven to the apartment complex Robin's been residing in during his stay in Los Angeles, finally arriving onto the strip beside a plane Gold had arranged for them to take to Toronto.

Though, of course, he wouldn't allow the duo to travel in luxury without something for his own gain in return. Not only had they been instructed to keep the partition down and increase their flirtations, in hopes that Tom, their chauffeur, will be in search of a payday from the tabloids by reporting their behavior in his car, but also Gold had tipped off paparazzi for their landing.

"The driver will do that," Regina assures, sliding her hand up to fiddle with the collar of his jacket, then smiles at him as she lifts her chin in the car's direction, "Let's get our boys."

His hand raises, capturing one of hers, the concoction of his warm skin and his prickling facial scruff trapping her hand as he places a kiss opposite side of her palm, causing her breath to hitch. He offers her a toothy grin, bookended by those dimples that Regina finds more and more magnetic, "As you wish."

Regina lets out a breath, waiting for Robin to turn around and step away from her before she hisses to herself, "Get a grip, Mills."

Perhaps it's simply been too long since she last had some sort of companionship. That _has_ to be the reason for this… whatever the hell this energy is between she and Robin. She refuses to believe anything less than a bad case of sexual frustration is the cause of her racing heartbeat and her drying mouth. It's been about a year since she last slept with someone else (well, aside from her own hand or a certain, vibrating, "Rabbit"), a fellow actor that she would occasionally scratch an itch of arousal with- someone, unbelievably, trustworthy in a town of glitz and snitches, whose reputation was on par with own her messy one. But he was also not very bright, not quite mature, and definitely didn't possess whatever quality Locksley does that is attracting Regina to him.

And Robin does nothing to abate that attraction when she sees him with a red and blue hued plaid leash wrapped around his wrist, Henry bounding alongside of him.

"Apologies, milady," He answers her unspoken question with a chuckle, "But it appears that your boy wanted out first and would not take no as an answer." His hand drifts down, almost instinctively, it appears, to pet her dog, the Labrador lapping up the attention in earnest. "You can take it from here or you can fetch Roland, whatever you'd prefer."

Regina would prefer not to have heat pooling in at the apex of her thighs from seeing the handsome man in front of her, donning distressed denim, that does little to conceal is firm lower physique, and a fitted black t-shirt underneath that damn leather jacket that hugs his muscular upper body, being so caring and considerate of her and the animal he knows is so precious to her.

"No, it's fine," She clears her throat, pushing the hair away from her face (which she prays doesn't appear as flushed as it feels), as she starts towards the rear of the car, "Henry seems good with you, so you take him up, I'll get Roland."

And, hopefully, her sanity while she's at it.

This may have been a bad idea, these travel arrangements, she thinks to herself. This whole thing, this "connection" is a farce, a PR stunt and nothing more, but the more she repeats that mantra in her head, the easier it seems to slip her mind when they're alone.

And maybe that's the problem, why are they alone with one another at all? Outside of _Heroes and Villains_ , or this production for the media, they have no commitment towards one another.

Except for this flight.

She sighs, opening the backseat's door, instantly smiling as she is greeted by an overly enthusiastic poodle pup, panting and mewling, scratching at her with his small paws.

"You ready to go, buddy?" Regina asks and, as if he can comprehend her question, his head bobs with excitement, dark brown curls bouncing every which way.

Roland has quickly grown an attachment to her, Regina has found, much like Henry has with Robin already. On the way to the tarmac, Roland had sat comfortably in her lap, while her own dog had preferred the sitting on the floor of the vehicle between she and Roland's owner. The canines have seemed to smoothly resume the rapport they had created the few days prior on their walking adventure. She's happy they will have one another on the plane, that they won't be in solitary confinement in some dark luggage compartment on a commercial flight.

Even if it'll put such a strain on Regina's self-control that _she_ ends up being the one on all-fours presented before her coworker.

With the dog hooked contently beneath her arm, and Regina spotting the driver transporting she and Robin's combined luggage, she forces out a breath, bracing herself, and whispers to Roland, "Not sure who should be on the leash, you or me."

She presses a kiss to the crown of the poodle's head, then ascends the steps leading her up onto the plane, leading her back to Robin.

* * *

"Well, I just got an e-mail from Feinberg," Robin announces as Regina steps aboard, unloading Roland onto the suede, beige sofa that lines the left side of the jet's interior, where Henry is currently lying. The smaller of the two dogs curls up beside his larger counterpart, while Henry's owner plops down in a similarly made armchair, on the opposite side of the aisle, across from Robin's seat. "It seems Heller is doing another rewrite."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Regina demands, a spike of rage contaminating her blood, "He does realize tomorrow is our first read-through, right?"

This is the fifth or sixth time that Isaac Heller has written the screenplay and while, truthfully, it was mainly just tweaks to dialogue, switching the sequences of a few scenes, nothing that really affects the story or the overall aesthetic of Regina's character, Wilma, it is still absolutely maddening to her not to have everything set in place.

"If it helps, she appears about as thrilled as you are," Robin smirks as he peers down at his phone, "The phrases 'pompous perfectionist', 'damned insane fool', and 'horrid little scribbler' are involved."

"Well this should be a fun shoot," Regina quips with a laugh, retrieving her own cell, from her Louis Vuitton bag (which matches her suitcases, of course), to view the message herself, "Let's just hope the cast, at least, can work well together. Might offset the tension by those two behind the camera."

"I think we're off to a splendid start."

She glances up to catch the smile Robin sends her and she works to maintain a blasé expression. "We're also instructed to do so, thief, don't forget." The attendant comes through, warning her two passengers that the flight is about to take off, as well as asking if there is anything she can do to assist them further, which both decline.

As they lurch a bit in their seats, the large jet elevating off of the ground and into the sky with a smooth take off, Robin poses an observation.

"Not sure which romance will be more interesting to play, ours' or Rich and Wilma's."

Regina snorts, perusing a selection of her e-mails and text messages, as she retorts, "Considering Wilma is on the run from a powerful witch and Rich is helping her escape, I think we have our answer."

 _Heroes and Villains_ is not the typical novel on the market and, perhaps, that's why it became the smash hit it had been. Stuck in that mysterious realm between Young Adult and Science/Fantasy Fiction, it, much like series of _Lord of the Rings_ and _Harry Potter_ preceding it, it's spanned genres, age brackets, and continents, which made it a best-seller, as well as critically acclaimed.

One aspect people seem to attach themselves to, in terms of subject, is the equal standings of the characters' sexes. While it is mainly female-dominated, with Wilma fleeing from a kingdom, controlled by an evil sorceress named Raven, who she had wronged, and, later, Raven's own daughter, Lilith, aids Wilma in helping to defeat her mother, there are also three male characters, who aren't made to look weaker to showcase the power of the women and vice versa.

And, because of the balance between the genders, it makes the romance between Rich and Wilma that much more important in the literary landscape because the characters truly are equals, who support one another and bring out the best of one another throughout the adventure that Heller's writing takes the audience through. That audience has formed a dedicated fanbase, an intense love for the fictional love that's been dubbed as "OutlawBandit."

"I'm not sure," Robin admits, stretching out his arm and ruffling Roland's curls, "I think we're quite a compelling couple."

"Do you, now?"

"Well, you're very compelling on your own, Your Majesty," He praises, removing his hand from his pet, who snuggles in better beside Henry, the dogs content and comfortable despite being suspended hundreds of thousands of feet above the ground, "We're already a gossip-rag sensation, as your manager had hoped, so it's only natural that it just escalates from there."

Regina decides to put his theory to a test and opens Twitter on her phone, searching articles and comments regarding her.

She spies the usual, negative comments. She attempts to ignore the majority of them, knows they're written by ignorant, uneducated people whose opinion shouldn't have an ounce of weight to them. With that said, she can't help but allow her eyes to drift over a few of them- an instant regret when she does.

 **HellersYellers: Ugh. Still can't believe they hired the Evil Queen as Wilma. WHY ARE YOU TRYING TO RUIN MY FAVE BOOK?! WTF**

 **AutumnReeves: Why the hell is Robin Locksley dating Regina Mills? He can do SO much better than that bitch. Like me. ;)**

 **BlanchardBabe: IF I SEE THE NAME REGINA MILLS ONE MORE TIME... -_- #FireReginaMills #SheShouldNEVERActAgain #QuitGivingBulliesAttention**

Regina snorts as she clicks on the last one's profile, which states: **My favorite M &M flavor is Blanchard. MarMar = LOML. #BlanchardsBeauties #MyIdolIsBetterThanYours #AntiBullying**

"'Anti-bullying' my ass," She mutters to herself, sadly accustomed to Mary Margaret's hypocritical fans, as she returns to her previous search. This time she focuses solely on the positive comments, noticing how they've increased with her and Robin's association. He may be right concerning their popularity as a pairing.

 **inlovewithreginam: OMG LOOKING AT HOW CLOSE THEY'RE WALKING WITH EACH OTHER! THEY'RE DEFINITELY A THING! I ship them so hard!**

 **melisficent: I can't imagine what else they're doing when they're alone! #LocksleyAndMills #reallifeOTP**

 **fangirl4life: Dog walking in public? If that doesn't scream "dating in real life", I don't know what does. #robina #ishipitsohard**

 **FangirlMess: THEY ARE SO OTP EVEN THEIR DOGS ARE DATING! They need to go all 101 Dalmatians and get tangled in their leashes... AND KISS.**

 **Dandylion: ROBIN/REGINA ARE SO CUTE 2GETHER! ANYBODY WHO SAYS THEY'RE NOT DATING CAN FIGHT ME ON IT! #RealLifeShip #IShipIt!**

 **AThiefsGirl: OMFG THOSE PICS THEY'RE TOTALLY IN LOVE ! REGINA AND ROBIN = #NewRealLifeOTP WE NEED A SHIP NAME! #Robina?! (3 (3 (3**

 **RegalFeather: I just can't with this awesome couple! they are perfect for each other! reginamills and RobinALocksley :D**

 **ForbiddenFruitFan: OMG Regina &Robin are trying to kill us, they're SO ADORABLE TOGETHER. I'm so weak they're so cute. PLEASE I NEED MORE PICS!**

One fan had even taken to editing their username in dedication to this new "relationship" she has cultivated with Robin.

 **ReginaandRobin4ever: Robin and Regina are like Relationship goals! (3 #OTP**

She then scrolls down the pages of one of the few fans she follows; a sweet girl who has defended Regina from the start of the asinine "Evil Queen" era, as well as before, and has even sent her beautiful, hand-drawn artwork. Judging by the excitement teeming the young woman's timeline, Regina expects Robin will be a subject in the next creative piece.

 **NotSoEvil: THE HANDS OMG KAJSDAOSKAKS They're totally a thing! #NewOTP**

 **NotSoEvil: "Just two coworkers getting to know one another" *cough cough* OTP! *cough cough***

 **NotSoEvil: GUYS, WE NEED A SHIP NAME ASAP! THEY'RE SO A REAL LIFE THING! #Rogina #Robina #ThiefQueen**

 **NotSoEvil: WHY CAN'T I HAVE SOMEONE TO LOOK AT ME LIKE REGINA AND ROBIN LOOK AT EACH OTHER? *CRIES* #fangirlproblems**

 **NotSoEvil: HE'S FEEDING HER! I REPEAT, ROBIN IS FUCKING FEEDING REGINA! OAKSIAJSIAJSIAJ I will NEVER look at fries the same way! Just saying k**

 **NotSoEvil: "It was wonderful, as it always is." My OTP *ALWAYS* eat together! *-* #WhatAboutYours hahah**

 **NotSoEvil: who knew the Queen would have a soft spot for dogs haha #NotSoEvil #Cuties**

 **NotSoEvil: CAN WE SERIOUSLY TAKE A MINUTE AND TALK ABOUT ROBIN'S TONED LEGS?! #HOT**

"It seems your 'toned' and 'hot' legs have their own fanbase, thief," Regina snickers, barely able to conceal her grin, adding "Oh, and your 'sexy' biceps" when she spots a tweet that includes a zoomed-in picture of Robin's upper arms beside a picture that reads: **This Is Art.**

He rolls his eyes in exasperation (an action that just exacerbates the amusement Regina finds in the situation), then, cocks his head to the side, a peculiar expression being painted on his face. One of curiosity, of bafflement, she notes. She raises her own brow in question, daring him to ask whatever seems to be gnawing at his thoughts.

"Nothing," Robin shakes his head, unconvincingly, which he must realize because within a breath, he's following it up with a shrug of his shoulder, confessing, "I'm just surprised someone like you partakes in those sites."

Regina nearly drops her phone.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? 'Someone like you'?" She demands, a vile mixture of anxiety and anger balling into a tight knot in her belly. It's a not-so-pleasant reminder of when Regina's father had called her, near tears, after the first 'Evil Queen' reports had surfaced. Henry had asked her how she could behave in such a manner and questioning if she were on drugs and "what happened to my little girl?"

It was the same lack of faith in her that she can sense from Robin's words now. And, for some reason, it lacerates her heart just as deeply.

"Calm down, Your Majesty," He soothes, playfully, leaning forward, his knuckles grazing her knee (sending a shiver up Regina's thigh that she tries to ignore), "I didn't mean anything unfavorable by my comment. I simply meant someone of your fame, it may be overwhelming. Not to mention, you seem to be one to like your privacy." She sighs, mentally kicking herself for jumping to the worst case conclusion, which Robin seems to recognize.

"I don't blame you for thinking the worst of my statement, Regina. I'd wager it's what you're used to. But you told me for this to work, I'd have to believe the best of you- that's a two-way street. I don't see your tabloid persona, so you have to stop assuming that I do."

She nods, a silent agreement because, as irritating as it is to admit to herself, he is right. She can't expect him to always be condemning her whenever he speaks and, as much of a farce as this "relationship" is, she has to some sort of stock of her trust in him.

But she'll be damned if she tells him that.

Instead, she shrugs her shoulders, explaining in regards to his inquiry before, "I didn't think it was fair to punish the fans that I _do_ have simply because of what another group of people assume of me."

"That's a fantastic attitude to have," Robin compliments as he leans back in his seat, removing his fingers from her skin- to Regina's unwarranted displeasure- and reaching over to pet Henry, "Personally I've never found a use for social media."

She looks up at him, her nose scrunching up in confusion, "But you have an account. I remember following you after your casting announcement." She types his name into Twitter's search-bar and, sure enough, "RobinALocksley" pops up. Though she finds that he wasn't exaggerating, only a few tweets under his name and all of which having to do with _The Thief_.

"I just did it for promotional reasons. Not even sure how to use the bloody thing."

Regina notices that he doesn't even have any photos posted and she smirks to herself as an idea sparks in her mind. "Well, we'll just have to change that."

She stands to her feet, crossing the miniscule space that distances their seats, demanding, "Give me your phone."

His eyebrows raise, curiosity manifesting itself through the rest of his features, but he surrenders the phone from his pocket regardless of any hesitations, making her grin as she her thumb flits across the screen- first, downloading Twitter's app.

"And what, may I ask, are you doing, Mills?"

"Making my picture your lockscreen," She smirks at him from beneath her mascara-laced lashes, softly whapping him as he winks at her and mutters the entirely overly-charming line of: "Well my mobile would be quite lucky to have you on it."

"I assure you, thief, whatever I'm _on_ is lucky."

"Oh, I have no doubt," Robin beams, clearly amused that Regina is playing along with his suggestive humor. His smile widens, as do his eyes in surprise, as she perches herself along the arm of his seat, "So this is my lucky day, now?"

It'd be her turn to roll her own orbs if she wasn't focusing her attention on his phone, calling up his camera feature and placing the screen in front of them.

Before Robin can ask, she answers his unspoken question, "We're taking a picture, then you post it on your account. It can reintroduce you to the world of social media, as well as get people talking about our 'relationship'."

"Always thinking about business, aren't you?"

Regina swallows a knot that suddenly forms in her throat, avoiding his gentle, yet prying eyes, "That's what my whole life has been, it's hard to train my brain to think otherwise."

He _mhmms_ in acknowledgement of her admission, yet, mercifully, allows the subject drop into the small, empty space between their shoulders.

She positions the screen an arm's length away from them, leaning against him, ever so slightly, to capture them both in the shot. "Ready?"

"Whenever you are, milady," He murmurs and his voice vibrates pleasantly against Regina's neck, the sensation seeming to parch her instantly. She gulps, as her tongue slithers out to wet her lips, while she tries to keep her finger, hovering over the shutter button of the phone, steady.

"One…, two..."

Just as Regina opens her mouth to say "three", either she is falling or he is pulling, but no matter why or how, the result remains the same: Regina Mills in Robin Locksley's lap.

She squeals as it happens, unbelievably, can't remember squealing since she was a child being bestowed with her own horse by her father. The same feeling thrums through her now, as it had then, a feeling of weightless giddiness, where time freezes and, in that brief, paused moment, everything good in the world is illuminated and everything bad is forgotten.

But as the freefall comes to a close, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around her. She is cradled in Robin's lap, his hands clutching her securely, his head ducked a bit to look at her- making the distance between their faces nearly nonexistent.

"So I _am_ the lucky one, it seems," He breathes, the ends of his lips tipping upwards, more and more, until his full-blown smile is on display, an airy chuckle escaping him.

While he finds the amusement in the predicament, Regina is temporarily paralyzed. For the first time in years, she feels as if she is tethered, not just to Robin and her makeshift seat on top of him, but by gravity in general, the air growing headier all around her. She wants to move, wants desperately to brush this off, to be aloof and unaffected, but discovers that she can only choke out the first thing that pokes through towards the forefront of her mind: "What does the 'A' stand for?"

"Hmm?"

He's obviously confounded by her inquiry, his brows scrunched up, his eyes searching her own. She elaborates, "The 'A', in your Twitter username. 'Robin A Locksley', what does it stand for?"

"Ambrose. It was my grandfather's name," He explains, easily, a contrast to Regina, who feels as if she is a tightly wound wad of vibrating nerves, jerking in Robin's grasp when his thumb brushes against an exposed patch of skin on her hip, where her light gray, high-low quarter-sleeved t-shirt from the Lush brand (which matched the over-sized, checkered scarf wrapped around her neck) had ridden up in their position.

"It's a nice name."

Robin seems to find amusement in her breathy compliment as he shakes his head, his smile widening with every intake of air he absorbs. And every breath Regina can feel as his chest rises and falls against her own, in and out, in and out. "So did you get it?"

It takes a moment for her to conclude what he is asking until she remembers the phone still clasped in her hand.

The picture.

She shifts on his lap, pride momentarily swelling within her as she feels a half-hardened piece of Robin's anatomy poking at her hip, bringing the phone back into her line of vision. Surprisingly, a photo really was captured, her thumb must have punched the shutter as she had tumbled off the arm of the chair.

It's a bit blurry, but it's a recognizable image of both Robin and Regina. It's as she was tumbling into his arms- her mouth agape, but her smile wide; her eyes closed, but her head thrown back. Robin is surprised- his eyebrows shot up nearly towards his hair line, but his eyes sparkle as he is looking down at her.

In any other circumstance, if she were different, he was different, _they_ were different, Regina would think the picture was cute. But, instead, it has her frowning and quickly exiting from the photo.

"What?" Robin questions after a pregnant pause, "Was it no good?"

Regina scrambles off of him as she answers, shoving his phone back in his palm, "It's not good enough to post, no."

The photo is personal, the thought gnawing at her like a bitter taste she cannot wash from her mouth. It isn't posed like she had anticipated, like a picture two people without feelings, like they should be away from the public eye, would take.

Robin disagrees, apparently.

"This is fantastic," He comments, he must have pulled the picture back up on his screen, his eyes attached to it, "It looks candid, adorable, if I say so myself." Regina can't resist chuckling at that, not expecting to hear the description of "adorable" pass by Robin's lips, but sobers herself as he continues, "We couldn't have planned it better. This will get tongues wagging for sure."

She shakes her head, "I just think that it's, um, _too_ much for the first picture. We want to keep the mystery alive for this to work."

"Come look at this," He requests, a gentle, pleading tone caressing his words as he adds, "Please, Regina."

She sighs, relinquishing, bending down to his level to look at the picture. A part of her itches to plant herself back on his lap, a part of her she dismisses instantly. Instead, she readjusts the scarf surrounding her neck, her fingers appreciating the busying movement, so they don't reach out and grasp onto Robin.

"It's not as if we're snogging in front of the lens," He explains as they both observe the frozen image of themselves, "But we're close, we're comfortable. It's not like mannequins set beside one another, it's _real_."

That's the problem.

"But, if you truly don't like the photo, milady, I will erase it right now. I do not wish to pressure you, ever."

He's not, he's not pressuring her. He is thinking about the best for their ruse, for her career's projection, for _Heroes and Villains_ success, while she is, selfishly, she knows, thinking only of how she cannot separate her body's craving for release of the tension that crackles between she and Robin and the reason for that tension, _why_ she and him are on this plane, taking this photo, pondering these possibilities.

"Post it," She directs simply, refusing to say "you're right", but knowing that he, indeed, is. He asks her how to do that and she instructs him on how to sign in and where and what to click. When he gets the photo uploaded, he asks what he should caption it and she shrugs her shoulders, "You've had decent instincts about this so far, do whatever you want."

"'The most beautiful smile I've ever seen…'" He mock-types, teeth sinking into his bottom lip cheekily as he peers up at her and she just shakes her head at him. He sets his phone down on his knee, focusing on her for a moment, "A lot of this may be a farce, but that certainly is not."

Her breath hitches noticeably in her throat and it nearly chokes her with the intensity. To offset the emotions stirring beneath her skin, she guffaws loudly, though the rumbling in her chest is from the pounding of her heart more than her forceful laughing. "Okay, Romeo, try to focus on making our audience believe what you're selling more than me."

Robin grunts something undiscernible under his breath, now silent as his thumbs carefully punch out a comment to tag to their picture.

Regina's phone _bings_ in the near distance of her plane seat, she forgot that she assigned Twitter to notify her of Robin's tweets when she had followed him, another advisement from Gold. She opens up the tweet and smiles as his actual caption comes into her view.

 **RobinALocksley: Lots of laughs with this lovely leading lady. And we haven't even started shooting yet. How lucky am I? ;)**

"Nice alliteration," Regina offers in review, tempering her galloping heart as her eyes keep being attracted back to the word "lovely". Christ, what was she, 15? She attempts to, again, shake herself of the schoolgirl sensations that are being evoked from her, flattening her tone, "We'll have to give you a crash course in hashtags, though."

She watches Robin's jaw clench momentarily, irritation scribbled across his facial features over her cold demeanor. He's not mad, no; truthfully, Regina isn't even sure he is capable of rage, the only display she's ever seen hinting towards such emotion be when he has opened up about his parents, but, even then, it's just a bubbling anger, well-tended to with poise and control.

It's what he employs now, spinning the situation into one of amusement as he heaves out a petulant breath and mutters a sentence that has her flicking his shoulder with her finger, before she collapses back in her own seat:

"Whatever you say, Your Majesty."

* * *

Time had seemed to steadily pass by, with Robin and Regina staying occupied, whether it was rousing their animals from their slumber in an attempt to play, busying themselves on their phones, or discussing the film with one another. She had purposefully avoided topics of conversation that were personal, genuine, like their past conversations had leant themselves towards, but if he had noticed, he hadn't said a word.

But, now, any effort in utilizing time was a moot point, as their jet sits, resting, on the tarmac- they have arrived in Toronto. Though it was a private airfield, Gold had warned them that he was alerting the press and the public, in whatever mysterious, nefarious channels he goes through, and Regina can already hear the commotion outside.

"That picture probably helped pull this decent turn out," Robin suggests as he pokes his head towards one of the peephole windows, eyeing the crowds gathered for their arrivals, "It already has over 10,000 retweets."

Regina sniggers, entertained by his words, bitter from the situation, "Look who is getting the hang of technology."

Robin turns back to look at her, "All thanks to you, milady."

She forces a small smile and he must be able to decipher the insincerity of the gesture, fore he is now grabbing her hand in his own, lacing their fingers together like a sneakers' strings, his thumb swiping rhythmically in the groove between her own and her index finger. "All we do is step off the plane with Roland and Henry, walk a few paces, and get into the car."

"I know."

"It's going to be fine," He assures and she sighs, knows he's right, knows this bout of anxiety that floods through her whenever she is faced with these crowds is asinine.

But there's more pressure than there had been before. She has to calculate her movements, what will sell a potential romance with Robin in an authentic way, without fooling herself into believing the actions are actually genuine and confusing her hormones more than they already are.

So she nods her head, removing herself from her seat and calling Henry to her to fasten his leash onto his collar. Robin slowly releases her hand, attending to Roland as she vehemently makes certain that Henry's harness is secure, murmuring to him as she does so, "Don't be scared of all the people out there, okay? And if you're not nosy and don't try to go on a mission, there'll be an antler ear in it for you when we get to the house."

"I'd offer to handle him, but I'm afraid Roland will try to jump from whoever's arms he's in..."

"It's fine," Regina replies, scratching behind Henry's ear, "He'll be a good boy, they both will."

"Awful lot of faith in our dogs, Your Majesty," Robin teases, scooping up Roland in both his arms as he stands to his feet, Regina following suit, winding the end of Henry's leash tightly around her wrist. Robin offers her a smile, one a bit dimmer than any she's seen grace his mouth so far in their arrangement, "I wish you had that same faith in us."

Regina is stunned speechless.

She's about to ask his meaning when he turns, Roland bouncing in his arms, to exit the plane, Henry yanking at his leash in an attempt to follow their new friends.

It's true, she knows. She hasn't been as confident in their ruse, in him as a partner in this, as he has with her- the incident with the picture, her concealed feelings involved or not, was a recent demonstration of that. She hadn't trusted his judgement, nor him, even before that, when they had been discussing her presence on social media. It's not because she doesn't trust _him_ , she just doesn't trust people, in general, and that's something she has to reconcile for this situation to efficiently work. But he also _must_ know that she has more on the line, that if this fails, she'll be the one to lose the most.

Right?

She follows him out of the plane, Henry trotting down the steps, by her side, as they're greeted with the shouts and screams and attention of hordes of individuals that have assembled. Phones and cameras are held high in the air, several Canadian police officers restricting the access many people are trying to gain to she and Robin.

He seems as unaffected as ever.

He holds out his hand as she reaches the last few steps off the jet, which she accepts, gratefully, as he aids her in her descent to the pavement.

While Roland quakes in his owner's arms, ducking his head into the crook of Robin's elbow in an attempt to hide from the collection of citizens and the camera flashes, Henry isn't afraid in the least bit, eager to investigate the purpose of people hollering his handler's name, in addition to Robin's.

As much as she's loathe to compliment Gold in any way, he doesn't do anything half-assed. There must be over one hundred people here, all clambering for the attention of the two of them. Or, perhaps, the Twitter post had helped to garner the gathers continuing to pour in.

It's hot, muggy, outside and she's not sure if it's from the Toronto weather in June or the scrutiny they're currently under, but either way it doesn't help Regina's wobbling legs adjusting to being on solid ground again, in Jimmy Choo heels, no less, and she's torn between being grateful for Robin's steadying arm, when he curls it around her back, and suffering a bout of heatstroke from the additional warmth his touch creates.

His moist lips brush against her ear as he whispers, "Do you want to do autographs and pictures or just leave?"

"I don't want to put Henry and Roland through any more of this," She returns, leaning up close to his own ear and he nods affirmatively.

So they scuttle past the crowds, both yelling at vague expressions of "We love you!" and "Thank you for having us!" in responses to shouts from several Canadian fans, before Robin opens the door, ushering in Roland, Henry, Regina, then himself and shutting it closed, as he falls back against the leather seat.

"Bit of an adrenaline rush, isn't it?" Robin exhales once they're ensconced in the backseat of the town car that had been sent to retrieve them. Roland pops up in his lap, pawing at the tinted windows, yapping at the people he sees. Henry withdraws from Regina's pets to join his fellow canine, though he merely observes, mutely.

She doesn't say anything for beat, merely glances out her window, then turns to Robin, "Nature of the business is what Mother always says."

"She isn't much of a sympathetic person, is she?"

Regina laughs out loud at that, shaking her head, "No, no, definitely not. Though, this is something I can _somewhat_ agree with her upon. I mean, it's so trivial. 'Ooh, too many people like me!', what kind of complaint is that? Especially for me, when I haven't had this kind of _positive_ reaction in, I don't even know, how damn long."

"I don't think anyone can be expected to be at ease with millions of eyes on them, Regina. You don't have to feel badly for that."

"Yeah, well…" She trails off absentmindedly, "I think once I get to the house, I'll relax."

"House?" Robin inquires and she nods, explaining how she always has Golden Spun Entertainment rent her a house, somewhere secure and secluded, but accessible to set and, most importantly, with a yard for Henry. She hates the lack of privacy that hotel and apartments, despises, even more so, the shortage of space that they allow for a dog of Henry's size. So, in Toronto, Gold had set her up in a rented five bedrooms, four bathrooms, brick exterior home. "Ah, they've put Roland and I up in a penthouse. I think he'd much prefer the lawn."

"Well he is welcome any time," Regina coos, reaching over and caressing Roland's curls, who immediately relaxes into her attentions.

"And me?" Robin jokes, Regina playing along and pretending to ponder the question. He sinks back in his seat, grunting, "Huh. And just when I was going to invite you to a get-together at my place."

"Get together?" Regina parrots, raising her eyebrow inquisitively, "What kind of 'get together'?"

Robin drops their playful banter, adjusting himself (as much as he can with Roland, now on his back, gratefully accepting a tummy rub from Regina) to better face her, "I wanted to do something to introduce us to the cast as opposed to just showing up at the table read tomorrow as complete strangers."

It's a decent idea, would certainly make the process less clinical than she's used to. It could also establish she and Robin's flirtation amongst the people they'll be spending most of their time with. And if the Heroes and Villains cast resembles her past few experiences, Regina is sure they'll giddily skip to the tabloids and online rags with any intel they think they've gotten on Robin and herself.

"If you're going to have people over, perhaps Roland can have a sleepover with Henry tonight," She suddenly finds herself suggesting, Henry's ears perking up at his name, almost as if he understands and is excited by her idea, "And I can bring him tomorrow to the studio and you can take him home after that."

Robin frowns briefly, glancing down at the pet splayed across his lap, "I'm not sure I could leave him for that long."

Regina giggles, removing her hand from a protesting Roland, who whimpers at the loss, to Robin's shoulder, "Well, my company for a portion of the evening, will just have to suffice, Locksley."

"I guess, for Roland," He sighs heavily, running a hand over his dog, meanwhile Regina uses the back of her hand to smart his arm and he chortles, rubbing at the "wound" she inflicted, "Always so violent, Your Majesty, do I need the Royal Canines' protection?"

"You're not the one who needs protecting," She retorts, though she finds herself reiterating this thought to herself, more than she is saying it to Robin. Clearing her throat, she tries to stifle the emotions, the tie, she senses in conjuncture to this man beside her, "And I think Roland would rather be us Mills' anyway, wouldn't you, sweetheart?"

As she speaks, it sirens Roland, who eagerly hops from Robin's lap and into her own and she displays a smug grin, especially as Robin crosses his arms, mumbling a "Bloody traitor" beneath his breath, focusing his attention on Henry; the Lab more than willing to be bestowed with attention by Robin.

She's almost so distracted by Roland cuddling on her legs that she does hear Robin when he speaks and has to ask him to repeat himself.

A look of mock offense contorts on his expression as he gasps, "Preferring my dog over me, well this relationship is already in shambles!"

"Serves you right for preferring a dog over _me_ for this evening," Regina fires back with a juvenile gesture, of her tongue poking out, to punctuate the sentiment.

"Let the record show that I still agreed upon Roland staying with you, so, no, I did not choose him over you."

"'Let the record show'? This isn't a courtroom."

"Perhaps that'll be our next project," Robin jests, though she doesn't miss the look of sincerity that passes his face as he scratches at his beard, "A courtroom drama where we're two attorneys who have an affair on the conference table."

Feeling mischievous, she smirks as she suggests, "Or two married divorce attorneys who get a divorce themselves."

"So pessimistic," He _tsks_ , disapprovingly.

She rolls her eyes, but laughs, nonetheless, "The only 'stable' relationship I've been privy to is the one where my parents live on opposite sides of the country and I'm, currently, in a relationship that is solely for the benefit of my public image, what reason could there be to be optimistic about when it comes to romances?"

Light creeps its way back into Robin's toothy grin and he locks eyes with her once more as he affirms, "We'll just have to find you one."

* * *

A few hours later, after getting Henry and Roland settled, after unpacking most of her belongings and getting a feel for the house, she uses the car service and the information (time, location, etc.) that Robin had texted her, to arrive here, at his hotel, for his gathering.

Regina rides the elevator up to the penthouse with excitement brewing low in her belly. She's hopeful, for the first time in a long time. She hopes the cast gets along well, then again, she just hopes it isn't a repeat of the past few projects she's worked on, with everyone instantly against her, thanks to the _Forbidden Fruit_ debacle.

The first thing she notices is the jumbled mess of voices that ricochet off the walls (white walls, she notes, the penthouse an extension of the hotel's modern brand) when she opens the door, as Robin had instructed her to do. It's a large space, with high ceilings and an open layout, all of which is dominated by the large accumulation of people. More people than the cast houses and more than she was expecting, for sure.

"Our sensational cohost has arrived, everyone!" Robin announces as he shimmies his way through several people, towards her.

"What the hell is this?" Regina hisses to him when Robin's face is beside hers, as he assists her in removing her trench. His chuckle ghosts across her cheek and she manages to keep the smile fixated on her face.

He announces to the room, "I'm going to show our leading lady where to deposit her coat, excuse us, will you?"

His hand against the small of her back gently guides her down a hallway, to the farthest door. When opens it up, it reveals a large bedroom, with a king-sized mattress sitting atop a mahogany stained poster-bed. The décor of the room continued in from the main room, the same darkened woods highlighted by cream paint and accents.

Robin's bedroom, she gathers.

Tossing her designer outerwear onto his bed, she rounds on him, arms folded tightly against her chest, "Care to explain?"

"I told you I wanted to get to know people from the film before-"

Regina interrupts his verbal offering, holding her hand up to stop him, "Yes, I know, I wanted that as well. But when you told me you wanted to hold a gathering here, I thought it'd be just the main cast, maybe Feinberg or Heller, not a host a damn swingers party!"

"'Swingers'?" He fails to conceal his laughter, chortling through his nose as his teeth dig into his bottom lip, "You're not used to attending parties are you, Your Majesty?"

"I've attended many parties!" Regina argues, a tad too indignantly considering most celebrations she's been invited to are requirements of the business: after parties, charity events, obligatory celebrations for someone's anniversary of something she didn't care about.

He takes a few, cautionary steps closer towards her, and she notices the way his hands tremor at his sides, as if they're itching at an invisible restraint. Itching to touch her? Robin is an affectionate man, not overtly, not disrespectfully, she knows, knows that's why he's resisting the urge to comfort her simmering ire with a caress of her arm or holding her hand. And while that sounds tempting and her own body seems to be like a magnet to his, she's pissed and reluctant and folds her arms over her chest to illustrate that point further.

"Regina, I just wanted to do something fun with the cast and crew and, yes, it's quite a few people, they're also people we will be spending most of the next few months with. I'm sorry I hadn't made my intention clearer, the last thing I wanted was for this to upset you."

It isn't, she realizes, he was just trying to be team-player that he has been ever since that day, in Gold's office, a few weeks ago, when he agreed to pretend to court a total stranger for the revamping of her image and publicity for their movie. She shouldn't be surprised that he isn't elitist, that he invited the gaffers and the stuntmen, in addition to those who will be with them on camera.

"It's fine. A little heads-up in the future would be appreciated though," She weakly scolds, her arms falling to her sides and Robin takes the hint, tentatively reaching out and fiddling with her hand, until she takes the initiative to link their fingers, "Did you tell them I was your cohost for this little soiree?"

Robin peeks up at her sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders, "I thought it'd be a good course of action. The two leads throwing a party together, but atop the rumors about us already... It could make our 'relationship' more believable to the set."

She huffs out a breath, admitting, "Well, you have a point there. How did you explain your cohost not being present when people arrived?"

"I said you had to go home to change."

She can't resist from laughing, especially when he animates his eyebrows in an exaggerated, suggestive way, "You should have gone into publicity, thief. I think you could even outdo Gold." Speaking of the manipulative imp, she takes another cursory glance around the room, "Swanky place they set you up in."

"It's not exactly home," Robin concedes, giving her hand a small tug, leading her out of the room, "But I'm not complaining, at all. Besides, it'll be better when Roland is here. Thank you. For taking him for the night."

"It's my pleasure," She pauses, then laughs, adding, "Actually, it's Henry's. They've been having a ball running around together."

"Careful, Your Majesty, you'll have him wanting to stay with you, instead of me."

She can't resist chortling further as his lips pull down into an exaggerated pout. Feeling bad, perhaps by the promise of alcohol that she had caught a glimpse of out in the living room, she extracts her hand from Robin's, reaching up and swiping her thump across his frown, "You're the thief, Locksley, not me."

She throws him a smirk, then saunters out of the room with purpose, barely hearing his retort of: "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that, Mills."

"Ah, there she is! The woman of the hour!" A recognizable voice calls out when she enters the main room of the penthouse, crowded with mingling guests, and Regina pivots on her heel, coming face-to-face with the boyish grin of Killian Jones.

"Killian," Regina greets pleasantly, accepting a kiss on each of her cheeks from her new costar, "I see you're as charming as ever."

It's not difficult to see why he's been Hollywood's favorite bachelor the past few years. To match his winsome attitude and his silky accent, he's the epitome of "tall, dark, and handsome." He has his black mane atop his head perfectly styled, the same ebony hair trailing down his face to a goatee that highlights his sharp jawline, and a drawn-on ring of black around his eyes that accentuates the blue of his orbs in much of the same way.

Not the type of man she's attracted to, but, she's not ignorant enough to not see the general appeal.

"And I see you're as ravishing as ever," He compliments, his eyes innocently roaming over her figure momentarily, then meeting her stare again, "And without that shriveled up crocodile over your shoulder for once." She snorts at his description for Gold, but as she opens her mouth to respond, Robin arrives at her side, her drink in hand- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Killian, "Aye, though it seems we all may have to fight this one for your attention."

"I certainly won't object to spending more time with Regina," Robin states and Regina feels his suddenly free arm, curl around her waist, after handing her a glass, judging by appearance and aroma, white wine. His hands flexes against her hip once, twice, before he unravels his quick hold on her, "But she may be sick of me already, so I'll leave her choice of company to her."

She swirls her beverage in her glass as she transitions her stare from Killian to Robin, reassuring, "I wouldn't want to abandon my cohost, so no fighting will be necessary, boys."

"Except for on-set, of course," Killian reminds, excitement washing over him as he turns to the man beside her, "Swords and bows, this is every young lad's dream when they grow up."

"Indeed," Robin nods in agreement and Regina can feel the youthful enthusiasm radiating off of him, matching their costar's, "If we were to live in a tree fort, it would truly be a childhood wish come true."

The other man erupts in a hearty chuckle, slapping him on the shoulder, "Don't forget the lovely lasses in need of our valiant knight skills!"

Regina rolls her eyes, readying her gaze to shift away from the testosterone-induced conversation, when Robin's voice surprises her as his hand settles on her back again. "I rather prefer a knightly woman to fight alongside with."

She turns her head, discovering his stare resting on her and she genuinely grins in return. She knocks his hip, playfully, with her own, remarking, "That is if you can keep up with said 'knightly woman', Locksley."

"Well, if he can't, I know that I can," Killian offers with his typical saucy smirk and Regina scoffs.

"You could barely keep up with the Kardashians, let alone me, guyliner."

"You'll have to worry about keeping up with me, first," Another guest interjects into the conversation, a woman with long, blonde tresses trickling over a red jacket she wears, sidling up beside Killian. He grows somber, quieter, at this woman's appearance, simply muttering a "Swan". Is he _blushing_?

Robin fills the moment of silence, explaining that "Swan" is Emma Swan, the set's weaponry instructor, who will be overseeing the scenes and stunts involving the various swords, blades, and other instruments of destruction, which clarifies how she knows Killian already since his character, Rich's friend, Roger, is a seaman with a knack for wielding a sabre.

Before Regina can repeat the same pleasantries she's grown accustomed to in the industry, the other woman, hand on her hip, questions, "You're with the bow, aren't you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You aren't doing any swordplay in the film, right? Or you're using a stunt double."

Regina narrows her eyes at Killian's advisor, shaking her head slowly, "Yes, my character uses a bow and arrow in the film and, no, I wouldn't be using a stunt person either way. I'm perfectly capable, thank you."

Emma takes in Regina's attire, dismissively, it seems, as she snorts, "That's what everyone says, but I kind of have the ability for telling who can really handle being trusted with this responsibility, acting or not."

"And because I'm not dressed like," She gestures towards Emma's outfit, of loose-fitting jeans, plain, cotton shirt, beneath the parted leather, "a teenager in a Gap ad, that 'tells' you anything about me?"

"No, but this high maintenance attitude of yours does."

"'High maintenance'?" Regina repeats, incredulously, feeling as if her eyes are going to pop out their sockets as anger singes at her retinas from looking at the woman Killian is already trying to usher away.

"Emma, that's enough," Robin states sternly, beginning to guide Regina, who maintains her glare targeted on the blonde, as he continues to chide her, "When you are in my place of residence, you will be respectful to people, especially to Regina. If you continue to act this way, you are free to leave, but I'd like to think we can be professional adults here."

"Lovely to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan," Regina sarcastically snaps, as she and Robin vacate their space beside Killian and Emma.

"I could have handled that, you know," Regina huffs as she follows Robin through the throng of strangers (to her, at least) in his living room, "What about your whole 'I want to fight alongside a woman' swill to Jones?"

"That remains true, milady," He replies, "But I also didn't want to fight an actual brawl with you tonight, which is what may have happened if you two had continued as you were."

"She was way out of line."

"Indeed, and that's why I told her as much," Robin concurs adamantly, as he steers them both towards another woman, this one donning a simple, blue cocktail dress, a contrast to her head of fiery red curls cascading down her back, a back Robin taps on as he says to Regina, "So allow me to make up for that."

"This is _our_ on-set expert for future archery fun, Meri…" Robin introduces, but is cut off by the woman, who appears to recognize Regina, something the actress typically cringes at, but this 'Meri' has a warm smile plastered on her nude colored lips, so hope for a better experience swells within her.

"Try not to hold it against me," The redhead's accented voice hums against Regina's eardrums; Irish? No. Scottish, she believes, after Meri continues, "I hear the last Mary ye had to deal with was a right bitch of a lass."

Regina can't help but laugh at the blunt statement and she raises her drink, glass meeting glass as Meri mirrors her actions, "Oh, I have a feeling we'll get along just fine."

"They tell me Barton's been teaching ye thus far in Los Angeles."

"You know him?" Regina asks, after swallowing a mouthful of vodka, tonic water, and lime juice, flummoxed by this revelation. She had never shot a bow before and had wanted to be as prepared as possible for this role, so she had taken several archery lessons back home.

Meri scoffs, her chest puffing with pride as she explains, "Aye, Clint and I trained together when we were wee ones before his family moved from Aberdeenshire, back to the States. I bested him every time."

"Nice to know we'll be learning from the best," Robin offers with a polite nod of acknowledgement, then excuses himself, giving Regina's upper arm an affectionate squeeze before doing so, and she watches him shuffle across the floor towards the entrance, welcoming a thickset, burly man who dons a long, curly hair and a lengthy beard of the same coarse curls, with an earnest embrace.

"Glad I won't have to worry about ye two aiming arrows at one 'nother," Meri's comment yanks Regina's attention back to the archer, who is sporting an expression of amusement, "Yer already as close as a bear and its tree."

"It's almost like someone orchestrated our affinity." _Like a manipulative bastard who sits upon a throne of machinations back in L.A._

Meri grins at the, what Regina implicated was, joke, admirably, "That's quite special."

"It's something, all right," She brushes off with a smile of her own, though a bit tighter, more forced, than her fellow female, then changes the subject.

The duo converse over Meri's experience, as well touching on their schedule for filming. They wind up conversation about that "right bitch of a lass" Mary Margaret, Meri admitting openly that she hadn't believed a word spun about Regina, calling her former _Forbidden Fruit_ costar a "coward" for how she handled the situation.

It's comforting, whenever Regina stumbles upon someone who supports her and not the mousy rival she has acquired in her industry, which she admits readily to Meri before the two women finish their conversation and progress to other party goers, Regina gravitating to Robin, who is now still engrossed in a discussion with the man of large girth she had spotted him with before.

"Regina!" Robin greets with the same enthusiasm he always seems to employ around her and it's unclear as to if he reels her in or if she nestles in beside him like Roland had to Henry on the plane, but she's at his side with his arm, once again, curled around her hip, "This is one of my oldest friends, John Littleton. He'll actually be working security on the set."

"Very nice to meet you, John," Regina addresses, reaching her hand out, which John accepts, placing a kiss to the back of it, gracefully and returning her sentiment.

"It's also nice to finally meet the gal that Robbie's been flapping his gums about nonstop."

Regina's eyebrows perk up in surprise, glancing between the old friends, "'Robbie's' been talking about me, huh?"

"An occasional mention, here and there, we are headlining a major motion picture together, you're bound to come up in conversation."

"Right. I don't remember 'she's the most beautiful woman I've gotten to work with' being related to talk about the World Cup or buffalo wings," John corrects Robin's nonchalance with a full laugh that sounds as if it rumbles up straight from his belly.

"Perhaps if you hadn't been so busy shoveling those wings into your mouth, you would've understood, big boy," Robin shoots back at John, the larger of the men just rolling his eyes at his friend's chagrin.

"So you didn't call me beautiful?"

"I will call you beautiful right now, milady," He responds, fervently, his hand soothingly rubbing against her hip, then he glowers back at John, "I just don't think you should hear it from this here sod."

Regina rolls her eyes. Men, she harrumphs to herself, the two in front of her chuckling with the familiar ease she assumes they're used to. "Well it was nice to meet you, John. I look forward to getting to know you more as we work."

"It was a joy to meet you, as well, Ms. Mills. And I apologize for my ribbing, Robin's like a brother to me."

"Please, call me Regina, and no apologies necessary. I happen to like ribbing him, too," Regina admits with a wink to Robin's friend.

"Well you two together is just trouble waiting to happen," Robin jokes, then turns to Regina, "Would you like to mosey a bit?"

She nods her head, offering John another smile, as she and Robin start to amble through the hotel room.

"So you and John are friends and he's working on _H &V_?"

"Yup," Robin confirms, taking a drag from the beer in his hand, "He's lived up here, working security for everything from events to personnel to television sets and I thought it'd be great if his first major motion picture was my first one in the States, or, well, North America, I suppose. So I made a request and Gold probably thought this was my 'compensation' for our relationship."

He lowers his voice so only she can hear him and she shrugs, sipping at her nearly empty glass of wine, "If that's compensation, it doesn't seem like much. You're just helping John and I out. What's in it for you?"

Robin smiles at her, his free hand reaching out and swiping a section of her brunette locks, which she had given a quick run through her curling iron and left loose for the night, behind her ear, "That's all I need, Your Majesty."

Regina isn't sure how to respond to that, isn't accustomed to meeting people, like Robin, who are selfless and righteous and just generally _good_ people in her line of work, so she suggests they continue to explore, which he agrees to.

They traipse through the space, meeting several people including Mallory Ddraig, who will be portraying Raven. Regina likes her, so far, finds her the perfect mixture of crass and eloquent, and they immediately bond over their ensembles, her costar having the same affinity for fashion that she does.

He gives her a tour of his temporary residence and it's impressive. Fantastic views of the city from every window, two spacious bedrooms, a high quality, modern kitchen, and the living space (a combined living room, dining room, and study, all open to one another, as well as the kitchen) is even bigger than Regina had originally thought. The design doesn't match Robin, though, and she thinks he hasn't had time to unpack because she can't spot anything that she would connect to him.

Until she comes across something in the designated study.

Regina squints her eyes, stupefied, almost unbelieving the sight before her: three black, leather guitar cases against the wall. She rotates on her heel, to question Robin, just as he seems to be trying to retreat from their spot.

"Whose guitars?"

"Mine," Robin hesitantly replies, almost bashfully, his hand scratching at the back of his neck as he purposefully ignores her questioning gaze.

Well, this is new information.

He had never mentioned being musically inclined, let alone owning a small collection of guitars. And of the, purely for research purposes, Google investigations she may or may not have done, regarding him, they never revealed any clue that he played the instrument- or any, for that matter.

"He sings, too!" John jovially informs, approaching the twosome, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulder, his beer sloshing over the rim of his cup with the blunt movement.

"It's just something I do in my spare time, a method of relaxation, if you will. But, if you want, I'll play you a little something sometime."

"Why not now?" Regina boldly suggests, curiosity getting the best of her as she imagines Robin, guitar strapped and mouth caressing a microphone.

"Sounds like a brilliant idea to me! Listen to the lass, Locksley!" Killian interjects from his post beside Emma, the icy façade appearing to be fading from the blonde as she scoots more towards her accented apprentice.

Robin, on the other hand, is not as enthusiastic, shaking his head and putting his hands up, speaking directly to Regina, "I think you deserve to be serenaded more properly than what I can do, milady.

"Oh hell no!" Mallory erupts, her words slurring together in a manner that has Regina simultaneously giggling at the outburst and inwardly cringing at the prospect of the first table-read of the script, tomorrow, being tainted by a hungover actress, "You're the host, Locksley! You owe us a show."

"I would have assumed the free booze was the pinnacle of our hosting duties," Robin shoots back, has Mal shooting him a withering glare before she sinks back in her seat, coddling her glass petulantly.

Chants of "Sing! Sing! Sing!" break out in the room, Regina joining in on the chorus, as well, nudging him with a playfully pleading smile to match. Finally, Robin relents, leaning down and groaning a "Fine, just for you, Your Majesty!" then planting a kiss against her hair before hopping off his seat.

He enlists Killian (someone Regina _did_ know had a lyrical bone, as he had headlined an all-star, charity production of _Les Miserables,_ a couple years prior, that had garnered rave reviews- and distinct ire from Gold, she recalls), whispering something to him before both men are now testing out the guitars as they set themselves up in front of the hoard.

"Now, you'll have to bear with me," Robin begins, lightly fiddling with the strings of the acoustic instrument, "I'm a bit tipsy and I've only recently begun to tinker with this song. Be kind, won't you?"

Everyone laughs, including Robin, and Regina snickers herself, finishing off her drink as music comes alive.

Familiar music, she deduces as it reaches her ears.

 _"When I believed in nothing_  
 _I called her name..."_

Regina isn't sure whether to laugh or cry in this moment. Lyrics of David Bowie, paired with Robin's melodic voice and nimble, strumming fingers filling the room. His eyes find hers and his teeth bite into his lower lip, that impish smile of his poking out at her. He remembers, from their first outing a few weeks ago, how she's a Bowie fan.

 _"Trapped in a high-dollar joint_  
 _in some place_  
 _I called her name_  
 _And though my days are slipping by_  
 _And nights so cruel_  
 _I thought I'd die_  
 _She danced her little dance_  
 _'till it made me cry_  
 _She was shakin' like this honey doing that_

 _When I needed soul revival_  
 _I called your name_  
 _When I was falling to pieces_  
 _I screamed in pain_

 _Your soothing hand that turned me round_  
 _A love so real_  
 _swept over me_  
 _You danced your little dance_  
 _'till it made me cry_  
 _You were shakin' like this honey doing that_

 _Never let me down; she never let me down_  
 _Never let me down; she never let me down.."_

Robin is talented, not only with his velvet-like voice, but in his acoustic arrangement of the song, the way his fingers caress the strings of his guitar, as if he and the instrument are the only ones in the room, when, in reality, he has the entire room's attention enraptured. Though, whenever he looks up, he manages to find Regina with his gaze.

 _When all your faith is failing, call my name_  
 _When you've got nothing coming, call my name_

 _I'll be strong for all it takes_  
 _I'll cover your head_  
 _till the bad stuff breaks_  
 _I'll dance my little dance_  
 _till it makes you smile_  
 _Shaking like this honey doing that_

 _Never let you down; I'll never let you down_  
 _I'll never let you down..."_

Regina cannot peel her eyes away from him and, in return, Robin's stare penetrates through her, as if he is speaking directly to her as he croons the last line of the song.

 _"I'll never let you down."_

* * *

 **(A/N: Firstly, I would like to apologize for not updating sooner! I absolutely adore this fic and the mind-blowing outpouring of support for it. I'm a bit of a "fic-aholic" and I have several ongoing ones that I'm trying to juggle, but I promise to keep PR a priority. Another priority, and something I would really appreciate if y'all would check out, is an AU OQ fic I'm writing with the brilliantly talented, AsYouAre, called "Stand By You" on our joint account: OperationNiclor. It's an emotional rollercoaster about life, love, loss, friendship, past, and future that is going to be a really entertaining read. :)**

 **Second, the positive tweets that Regina was trolling through? Those are REAL fangirls. ;) PHENOMENAL gals helped me out, via Twitter, and created fake usernames and tweets to be included in this chapter. Here are their REAL usernames, in order of appearance, so you can go follow them: inlovewithlanap, oh_my_helena, gelibass, FearlessRegal, FraiseDandelion, AnOutlawQueen, Geovizna, ouater, haythamfangirl, Listhefan. HUGE thank you to those total gems.**

 **Third, I hope you liked meeting a few of the supporting characters in this chapter, there will be more with all of them, especially Mallory/Maleficent, Lily (who'll play Lilith), and the third male costar since they were not featured as much this time. While it is definitely an OQ dominant story, I do really enjoy writing the mingling's of other characters- if you already couldn't tell by my other OQ AU which is basically an ensemble of every character I can fit. LOL.**

 **Fourth, another ginormous dose of gratitude to the SPECTACULARLY talented, Elodie, who was generous enough to create the stunning picture to represent this fic. It was the first time an artist has made something based on/for one of my fics and I'm beyond honored that she shared her skills for this and me.**

 **And, finally, most importantly: Thank YOU, everyone who has been reading, following, faving, reviewing, you truly have no idea how much it means to me. This may just be a fanfic, but the fact that something I've written has over 200 followers, not to mention such kindness and love I've received for it, is a pretty big deal to someone who has dreamed of writing, but was too insecure to do so, publicly. So, from the bottom of my given, not stolen heart, thank y'all so much. ;) And I hope you continue to enjoy!)**


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